End of my shift.

At literally the minute it was time for me to clock out and go home, I had some drama occur and had to stay a bit late.

A man went into cardiac arrest while exiting the parking lot. Two women were doing CPR on him, I was on the phone with a gentleman who just happened to be passing by.

I asked the man to stay on the phone with me in case the paramedics had trouble locating the car and the patient.

At one point, the man starts talking to someone else on the scene.
"Hi! Yes! Yeah, I would. I would stay if I were you. Thanks. Okay."

"Who's that?" I asked.

"A priest - a priest just got here - he just happened to be driving by," he replied.

"Oh, wow!" I exclaimed. "How convenient!"
(I know what I meant, and you know what I meant. I hope the poor caller knew what I meant.)

I have a fear of dying without a priest nearby. Any calamity where a priest shows up, whether it's good old Father Mike the airport chaplain, or a traveling priest who just happened to be passing by, is a little bitty triumph in the midst of a tragedy, in my opinion.

Even better news? The Aviation Police arrived on the scene (as did the Chicago Police and the Chicago Fire Department, of course) and applied an AED to the man, shocked him, and back to life he came, after having no pulse and no signs of life. Welcome back, buddy.

Fathers, don't leave home without your Last Rites stuff.
;)