It Doesn’t All Depend On You

CEFR Level B1-B2

This essay is for the people who, like me, became adults believing that if they hadn’t prepared for every eventuality, if they didn’t see every possible solution before anyone else did, then they were deficient, irresponsible humans.

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The Story

During the January 2026 Big Cold, my area got ice-snow several inches deep. It froze into a solid block. Adults could walk on the ice-snow without breaking through. This is not a normal occurrence in this part of the country, so people are unlikely to have the tools and skills needed to successfully adapt.

I was clearing the snow-plow bank from beside my vehicle when over the voices of Sam, Ron, and John from the After Class Podcast in my earbuds, I heard someone shouting. I looked towards the noise, thinking it was a child playing. The calls became more desperate, clearly someone calling for help. As I walked towards the sound, I saw a person lying on the ice in their front yard. 

When I reached them, I started asking questions to figure out how to help. I didn’t want to get them standing if they had broken bones or a possible serious injury. I was wearing rain boots, which have no grip. The person was lying on a gentle slope. If I stood still too long, I started to slide on the ice-snow. 

Just as I began to understand that the person had fallen, couldn’t get themselves up, and was worried about injuring a previous hip surgery, a vehicle stopped in the middle of the road and a man hurried towards us. He asked the person if they wanted us to call EMS. The person repeated what happened to them and their worries. 

At this point, I could have been annoyed that someone came in and took over while I was in the middle of helping. I’ve had experiences where the person “helping” was actually being more of a bossy busybody than someone who knew enough of the situation to offer useful help. Plus, I was already here. Why did he think I was incapable? 

Instead, I noticed that this man seemed to evaluate the situation and adapt. I accepted that two calm responders can be better than one. I also recognized that he was taller and stronger than I am, and therefore better positioned to help an adult get up.

“Can you stand?” I asked the person who had fallen.

“I don’t think I can,” they replied, before saying many things that showed what they were afraid of but left me unclear on the severity of their injury. 

“Okay, well, we’ve got to get you off the ice,” I glanced around and didn’t see cardboard or anything else to use to insulate their body from the cold ground, “Do you think you can lift your…” I was pulling off my thermal sweatshirt to put under the person’s torso, when the man interrupted, “I have jujitsu mats in my truck.” 

The next thing I knew, the fallen person was getting up with the man helping. I offered support from the other side and the fallen person clung to me. I noticed that they were not putting weight on one leg. 

Here, I could have been irritated that my plan wasn’t being followed. What if the person caused more injury by getting up? Did the man initiate the move? I was the first person on the scene. Why weren’t they deferring to me? What did I miss that indicated the person could get up? 

Instead, I recognized that the injured person needed to feel some form of control over the situation. I remembered my training that said the most helpful emergency response is one that seamlessly adapts to changes. 

Now we were standing on the icy slope, the man supporting the patient and the patient clinging to me as I tried not to slide down the hill and into their injured leg. The man noticed I was having a hard time being a stable support and calmly told the patient, “I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you fall,” while nodding to me behind their back.

I gently disentangled my arm from their grip and pulled over their trash can for them to hold onto. I wasn't sure how a wheely bin would help on an icy slope, but it seemed to help the injured person feel more confident to grip its handle. 

“I’m going to call EMS, okay?” I confirmed with them. An emergency squad visit can be expensive and I didn’t want to put that burden on them if, now that they had the dignity of standing upright and the comfort of knowing they weren’t alone, they realized they were just bruised and scared, not actually injured. 

Receiving no objection from the patient, I dialed 911. Once the dispatcher ended the call, I checked with the patient and the man supporting them. “What do you need? How can I help?”

I wasn’t asking for instructions. I was checking in to see if anything had changed while I was on the call. Maybe the man was worried about his truck sitting in the middle of the road and would want me to move it to the side. Maybe his nose was about to drop a snot stream and he would be grateful for assistance with a tissue. Maybe the injured person realized they were bleeding or wanted their coat zipped up more. 

The injured person asked me to turn off their car, which was warming up a few feet away. I did, then knocked on the back door of their house. 

I had learned that the patient had a house-bound family member and I had seen them at the window, so I wanted to update them on the condition of their relative. I gave the family member the car key. They gave me the patient’s wallet just as a firetruck pulled up. Less than two minutes had gone by from the time I made the 911 call. 

“Do you think they’ll go with the paramedics?” I asked the family member. They nodded, so I took the wallet. 

Three men came from the firetruck. After briefing them, they took over the support of the patient. Even with their good boots, they were slipping down the hill, too. The man observed that he was no longer needed and left. See, not a bossy busybody.

One fireman said that they would help until the paramedics arrived. Another asked if there was a chair for the patient. They got one from the house and got the patient seated in a flatter part of the driveway. 

At this point, I could have been embarrassed for not thinking about a chair first. When I was younger, I would have thought I was a bad person for not thinking of everything.

Instead, I now understood that I am not a trained paramedic nor do I have the level of first response training a firefighter receives. Also, my job is not one where I quickly think of solutions to relieve physical pain. There was no reason to be embarrassed or feel deficient. I operated within the bounds of my training and experience. 

Once the firemen got the patient stabilized, I handed the patient their wallet.

I told a fireman, “If you don’t need anything more from me, I’m going back,” and gestured towards my house. He nodded and I left to resume hacking ice slabs away from my vehicle. See, also not a bossy busybody.

About five minutes later, an ambulance showed up. I don’t know what else happened because citizen first responders don’t get updates. You help where you can, then you leave and wonder what happened.

Reflections

I’m not sharing all this to make myself sound like some kind of hero. The purpose is to give relief to people who maybe feel anything that I could have felt. This post is for people who feel guilty when others know more than them, who feel like they deserve bad things because proper planning would have prevented it, who are constantly exhausted with trying to predict the future so that they aren’t a bad person for “letting” something happen. (Planning is good, but no one can control everything. No one “lets” something happen when that thing comes from unpredictable events or another person’s decisions.)

That used to be me. Now I know that I’m not a bad person if some people are good at things I’m not good at. I’m not irresponsible if some people think of solutions that I didn’t think of. One person can’t know everything or think of all solutions. We need a team of people. We need to respect where our training ends and others’ begins. Having learned that gives me freedom. I hope anyone who is like I was can also gain that freedom.