One More Day

Written by Brandi Powell, published on July 2, 2024

When I first started dispatching, I was a sensitive, empathetic mess. I would hear callers crying out, and my knee-jerk response would be to pray for them or see if I could assist them in some tangible way. “What time do I get off work? Can I go drop off a care basket?” I would think to myself. It was a lot at first.

Growing up in the church, while being an overly sensitive person, initially made 911 very difficult for me. However, I learned over time that my empathy was perhaps my superpower. So instead of being overwhelmed and overtaken by what I was hearing, I would begin to feel what they felt and use that to anticipate the type of response they needed. If I were this person, what would I need? And I would tell them what I needed someone to say to me.

For a long time, suicide callers and crisis callers were my forte. My co-workers knew if they couldn't reach a caller who was hysterical, they could give Brandi the phone. I took pride in it and was happy to be of service. I wonder if we all have some kind of superhero complex.

The call that made me realize I can't do this alone was a call I took one Sunday morning from an elderly gentleman. As I answered, I could hear his desperate cry. I struggled to get his location and inquired what was happening. He cried, “My wife is not breathing! My wife is not breathing! Oh, Lord Jesus, don't take her now. Don't take her now!”

“Sir, I can instruct you through CPR. Is she on the floor or the bed?” I wanted to get him to get her to the floor to begin CPR. Unfortunately, she was in a recliner, and he was too old to move her. This alone made him weep.

He cried “I can't move her. I'm too old. I can't move her. Lord, don't take my wife today. God. Not today. God, give me one more day with her. God, give me one more day!”

I held back my own emotions as I listened to this man cry out to God for help. I asked him if he could get the recliner in a flat position so he could begin CPR.

He struggled, but he was finally able to lay her down flat. I started to walk him through CPR, but at a certain point, he gave out. His advanced age rendered his body too weak for the process. He screamed and cried again. “Lord Jesus, don't take her, God. Don't take her. Please, God, just give me one more day. Please, God, just one more day. Don't take her, Father. Not today. Just give me one more day!”

I stayed on the phone with him, even though, at this point, he could no longer do CPR. In the background, I heard agonal breathing that sounded like snoring. And I knew that if she wasn't gone, she was about to be. I was overcome with sadness for this man, who was begging God for one more day with his wife.

After the call, I was so overwhelmed that I did something I rarely did. I got up, walked out of the 911 center, and went to my supervisor Judy's office down the hall.

I sat quietly in the chair across from her desk and then suddenly burst into tears. I don't know why his call triggered me so badly, but I believe it was hearing someone begging and crying out to God. And in that moment, as a person of faith, I wanted to scream, “God, grant his request! God, do you hear his pain? Do you hear his sorrow?”

This call was a turning point for me. I wasn’t invincible. I wasn't able to think of the right words to say. I wasn't able to think of the right thing to do. All I could do was send an ambulance and stay on the phone until they arrived. The crisis caller queen had been dethroned.

I felt defeated. I felt discouraged. My hope and my confidence in myself were shaken.

A few days later, I began looking in the newspaper for her obituary. I hoped to find some information about his wife to bring closure. We rarely, if ever, bring closure in dispatch.

After perusing the papers, I finally found her name. As I read further, I saw her date of death. And I discovered that she did not die on that Sunday- She passed away on Monday. God gave her one more day. He had cried and prayed for one more day. And she was given one more day. 

My hope was restored. I truly did all I could do. Mostly, I was grateful that I didn’t have to handle it alone.

This is the call that shifted things for me, that let me know that if we don't have a support system in place in 911 centers, we could crumble to pieces. I don't know why that call triggered me so badly. I don't know why I felt so strongly for that elderly gentleman who lost his wife and begged God for one more day, but I did. And because of that, I discovered that I had someone to go to. Because of that call, I discovered that my supervisor was willing to listen to me cry irrationally over a call I've probably handled a thousand times before.

Make sure that your centers are a safe place, so that when your dispatchers have their “one more day” call, they have someone to turn to. Thanks Judy.

Thank you, Brandi for sharing your experience with us. You can follow Brandi Powell on social media @the911Chaplain. If you are interested in writing a blog, please email amanda@911derwomen.com. Sign up for our newsletter on our homepage to stay up to date with 911der Women programming, exclusive content and blog updates. Click here and scroll to the bottom.

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