Intense Desperation

I am working away at my desk when our office assistant rushes in and says, “Uh Doug, there’s a man out front who says he wants to jump off our deck.”

OK, let’s move!

I told her to get building security called and as I approach the reception area I find a man just outside our entry doors. Let me explain the layout…

We are on the 13th floor of a combined use building – 13 floors of retail/business with another 5 floors of privately owned condos. We are on the 13th floor which is referred to as the Penthouse. As you exit the elevators you arrive at our glass doors – usually open, but closed this particular day due to the cold. After passing through the glass doors, its 30 feet to the sliding door to the deck.

So back to the scene at hand.

A man had exited the elevator and was standing just outside our glass doors staring through these doors and out to the deck. Once the receptionist noticed him just standing there, she cracked open the front door and asked if she could help him. He replied, “I want to jump off your deck.” Our receptionist, startled by what she thought she heard, said, “I am sorry, could you repeat that?” And he said again, “I want to jump off your deck.”

She turns to the office assistant who is there sorting mail, repeats what the man said and the office assistant is off to get me.

So as I approach the reception area, I find the receptionist still in the doorway and the man still just outside the door, 30 feet from his objective.

I slipped past the receptionist, closed our doors and started talking with this man – while standing between him and our doors.

He won’t respond to any of my questions. He just stood there and stared out towards the water, towards the edge of the deck.

Do you know how it feels when you are about to cry and you know if you utter one word you will just bawl? His lip was quivering and tears were welling up in his eyes. I so much just wanted him to start talking. I didn’t care if he cried.

And without answering any of my questions he said, “I just want to jump.” The only thing he ever said to me while on our floor.

At that point I started talking about going downstairs. We move towards and get on an elevator headed for the lobby. I’ll admit that while he appeared harmless, while there in the elevator with him was the first time I was a little afraid of what he might do. But he just stood in the corner of the elevator.

We exited the elevator and start moving towards the building lobby. He wants to go outside. To where, I don’t know.

I keep trying to talk with him. Finally I get a name. His name is Joe. He is still moving towards the front doors to leave. I just flat out tell him, “Look, I don’t want you to leave. Let’s get you someone that can help you work through this.”

By now a security officer has appeared on the scene and an aid car has been called.

Joe is by the door. I try to get between him and the door. I asked him what was going on in his life that would make him want to jump off the deck. He answered, “Everything in my life is wrong.” It was the most he said the whole time we talked. I said to him, “Wow, that has to be so overwhelming. You can’t change it all at once, but there are people that can help you to start walking through areas of your life one at a time to help you deal with them.” He doesn’t reply.

Between the security officer and me we convince him to sit down. While the security officer is off getting some hot chocolate for Joe, I keep talking with him. I learned he was from Miami. He said he didn’t have any friends or job here, and that he stayed in a different shelter each night.

I noticed he was clutching a folded, yellow piece of paper in his hand. I asked him what it was. He handed it to me. I read over the form which was a copy of a release form he had signed for the DSHS to give a nearby clinic his medical records. Plus, I now knew his last name and birthdate. He’d earlier told me his age, which the birthdate supported. He is 45 and completely without any hope for a tomorrow…

I asked him what the clinic was going to do or when he was supposed to go back. He replied, “I don’t know” to both questions. On the form was written, ‘Coordination of services’.

Just then the aid car shows up. I wish we’d had more time to just talk.

I shared with the EMTs what I knew and showed them the piece of paper. They were trying to decide what to do and I offered to go call the clinic to see what they intended next for him. “OK,” they said.

I called the clinic and after three people actually reached the mental health professional he’d met with right before coming to our office. She was clearly rattled as she let slip out, “He said he was going to go jump off of a building.” My gosh, why did they let him go!? She indicated that Joe should be transported to the Psychiatric ER of Harborview Medical Center and they would phone ahead to assist with coordinating his care.

I went back down stairs and they already had Joe in the aid car, just waiting to hear what I had learned and for the piece of yellow paper.

After I calmed down a bit, I called the lady at the clinic as I had a couple of questions. I told her how I believe she and others in the mental health profession must have such an incredibly difficult job and that I wasn’t trying to judge her, but asked why she let him go. She replied, “I didn’t know what to do and he didn’t want to go to Harborview and I couldn’t hold him.” She said, “I do know you saved his life.” Apparently though, if a person is about to harm themselves or others, the police CAN be called and they can then get him transported to a place of care/help.

I called Harborview in an attempt to see if I could connect with Joe and if nothing else, offer an ear. The ER nurse said that I couldn’t see him or get contact information, but that I could leave my name and number, which I did. I called the Harborview chaplain and he told me I had done all I could as far as trying to reach Joe.

Later I got a call asking me to give a statement as part of his evaluation process.

Today, two days later, I received a call from the local clinic. It was the clinic director calling to thank me for my “heroic efforts”. I played down that part, but she insisted that our actions kept Joe from jumping and taking his life. She walked through the event with me, amazed that I was able to talk him down to the lobby area. She says there are trained people in her clinic that find that hard to do.

I shared with her how unnerving it was to look in to his eyes and see such intense desperation…

We concluded the conversation with her letting me know that because we’d stopped Joe from jumping and then kept him from leaving the building that he is now getting the care he needs. That he is in a safe place. Otherwise he may have found a place to jump from.

I guess I have done all I can and can only pray for Joe and those that are helping him.

But it’s a good feeling to know I had a part in Joe having a tomorrow.