Driving casually along the highway when a horrific accident unfolds just up ahead.
Being awakened in the middle of the night by a frantic neighbour, who says a loved one is trapped inside their burning home.
These are situations anyone could unexpectedly find themselves in at any time.
They are also situations in which just about anyone would immediately spring into action to see what they could do to help.
The last thing anyone thinks about is the potential risk for long-term psychological damage from being the Good Samaritan in a potentially traumatic situation.
Vincent McGrath of Kippens recently found himself in such a difficult situation. He never thought twice about getting out of his car in the middle of a highway on a cold, dark night to offer whatever help he could at what turned out to be a terrible accident scene.
His was the second vehicle to arrive mere seconds after the collision. One person was already dead. One was critically injured. A third seemed physically fine, but was clearly showing signs of shock.
“I couldn’t help anyone at that scene because it just was what it was. We needed someone to take over. Not me.”
— Vincent McGrath
McGrath already has post-traumatic stress disorder from seeing some terrible scenes while doing a tour of peacekeeping duty with the Canadian Armed Forces in Egypt, near the Gaza Strip, in the 1980s.
His vehicle ended up stopped between the two crashed vehicles. He couldn’t go further ahead and traffic was starting to stop behind him, so he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
He knew this horrible accident scene could be another trigger for him to experience the symptoms he has been coming to grips with for the last 30 years. Still, the instinct to get out and do whatever he could to help those in need was even more powerful.
It would be about half an hour before any of the professional first responders summoned to the scene arrived.
He and the other bystanders who were there had little to work with. McGrath said one man at the scene gave up his winter jacket to use as a blanket to offer some warmth to a victim.
“I kept going out in the road looking for them to come,” he said of the long wait for the police, ambulance and firefighters who eventually responded.
“I couldn’t help anyone at that scene because it just was what it was. We needed someone to take over. Not me.”
In the days that followed, McGrath did feel anger and resentment — some of the myriad symptoms caused by his post-traumatic stress — growing inside him. He also found it hard to sleep.
He even found himself, for some reason, questioning if he did the right thing calling 911, which he actually had to convince himself was what he needed to do.
But it wasn’t just the grim sights he saw or the inability to do much that frustrated him.
The fact no one in authority ever took the time to approach him — or any other member of the public who stopped to offer help, as far as he knows — to make sure he was mentally OK really bothered him.
He went to see his counsellor in the days that followed the accident. He said his psychologist could tell right away something was affecting him.
“I’m lucky because I have support. Not everybody does, though, and not everybody realizes what could happen to them.”
— McGrath
McGrath said he went years experiencing drastic mood swings and nightmares until he was finally diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder.
“I thought it was just who I was becoming,” he said of having not attributed his mental state to some of the disturbing things he saw during his peacekeeping experiences.
Given it’s the police who usually manage scenes and speak with witnesses, McGrath felt the duty to ensure the well-being of bystanders who get involved in helping should fall to that agency.
Officers themselves, as well as other first responders at serious events, are typically offered a chance by their employers to openly discuss their experiences and avail of counselling if anyone feels they need it.
According to the RCMP, there is no process in place whereby its officers would refer helpful bystanders or prompt them to seek medical services related to the psychological impacts of responding to an accident scene.
The police had his contact information, McGrath noted. He said he called 911 from the accident scene and said the police called him back for an assessment of the scene while they were en route. He said he spoke with the RCMP at the scene and again on the phone later, but was never asked how he was dealing with what had happened.
He thinks there should be some mechanism in place whereby people who witness tragedy up close are followed up with and not just left to their own devices.
He said the nature of post-traumatic stress is that it could take days, weeks, months or even years before it evolves into a problem.
“These professionals get offered services, but what about the Good Samaritans who were there and dealt with it for 35 minutes with no help?” asked McGrath. “I think this affected a few people. There are people out there being injured unintentionally: people stuck there, trying to help with the best they got and it’s the people who show up after who get the help.”
