I’ve been where you are. That moment where your brain misfires trying to switch from business as usual to “holy crap, DO something!” is the worst gut wrenching surreal experience I’ve had.
You absolutely passed your “test”, and get extra points for turning him on his side when he started passing bile. Most people wouldn’t think to do that, and it’s vital.
Not that it’s a comfort, I know, but you did *everything *right. It just didn’t save him, as is usual.
The cavity giving way probably wasn’t ribs breaking, by the way, but separating from the cartilage at the sternum. There likely weren’t any sharp edges to do any further damage, and it was, as other posters have said, a sign that you were doing adequate compression depth.
Try to see it this way. Somebody called for help, you came. All superheros do that. You were somebody’s superhero.
Very few of us get the privilege of holding a dying person. I’m glad he wasn’t alone. 
Maybe he was a terrible person.
I wanted to agree with this. I’ve never been in your position, Kapowz, and I pray that I will be. I do know several EMT’s and they have told me about the shock/grief/feeling of not doing good enough.
You did good. You did everything you could and it sounds to this non-professional that you did it all right.
You kept your wits, you did as you were trained to do. As others have pointed out, CPR is only rarely successful.
Head up and walk proud.
I was just wondering this the other day, whether, despite anything I’ve learned, I’d actually be able to do CPR. I’m really not sure if I’d have the guts, if I wouldn’t just wait for someone else, too afraid that I’d do the wrong thing or that any action taken would mean I was taking direct responsibility for someone else’s life (however ridiculous that is, considering the statistics and circumstances). That you had the guts is amazing.
You probably have the guts, and will know it in the right circumstances. I’ve been there- it was an effort that didn’t work out, but I would still do it again if necessary. While the stats for success are low, they’re higher than if nothing is done at all.
-JR
I’d like to third the idea of talking to someone who regualrly deals with this kind of stress.
I have only one experience trying to save someone who had stopped breathing, and it was on a plane, of all places. It’s a longish story, but thankfully the guy made it. Still, I was a wired mess afterwards, at least on the inside.
Luckily, I reached out to one of the other people trying to save him who was a nurse. We rehashed the whole thing over the next few hours. She had plenty of experience decompressing after stressful events. Helped a lot.
Hang in there, Kapowzer, and good on you.
argh…I meant that I pray that I will never be.
What a dreadful experience. You did everything right, Kapowzler. Treat yourself to something good soon.
Super Kapowzler,
can I just add to the folks here that said you done good.
I had the Basic Life Saving course in work last year, and there was one thing that the trainer said that stuck with me. He said that if someone needs CPR then their heart has stopped and they are already dead. CPR isn’t about preventing them dying, it’s about bringing them back to life. And he also repeated the figure that others have quoted in that CPR is only effective 10% of the time, and that even the experts don’t have a better success rate.
So thanks to you, Jerry was given a chance. I know it sucks, but I’d say you passed the test with flying colours.
P.S. My CPR trainer said that the best way to keep rythym when doing the compressions is to keep time to the song “Nellie the Elephant.” He also said it looks unprofessional if you sing it out loud…
This isn’t the place to be an asshole.
As others have said, you didn’t fail.
I hope if I have a heart attack away from immediate medical help that someone like you will try, despite the very low probability of success.
I know it won’t make you feel better, but you did a really good thing.
I understand why you feel the way you do, but I hope one day you will accept that you did all you could (and way more than most would do) and that this was almost certainly a death that no-one could have prevented.
I really feel for you.
Jeez, try to cheer someone up and this is the thanks I get.
Super Kapowzler I apologize if my levity was tone deaf. Don’t feel horrible, you did good. It’s not your fault.
I want to harp on something for a bit.
The only way to fail the CPR test is to do nothing or to deliberately do the wrong things. You did the right things. They failed because they almost always fail. CPR can’t change the Universe.
Actually failing the CPR test is worse. If you don’t do anything, you get to go through life wondering what might have happened had you at least tried. This way, you know that you did precisely what any trained person would have done. You know. And in this case knowing, even if it is knowing a bad thing, is better than always wondering.
I’m really sorry. I “rescued” a little nine-year-old girl once on the streets on Tokyo by unblocking her airway. She had been hit by a car and when I first got to her she was breathing and had a heart beat, only to start to turn blue. Her tongue had slipped back and had blocked her airway. I depressed it and she started breathing again, but remained deeply unconscious. I remember opening her eyelids and seeing no response even in the bright sunlight and thinking that this could not be a good sign. Her mother arrived at the scene while I was crouched over her daughter, holding her tongue from slipping back.
The ambulance finally arrived and they took her to the hospital, but the brain trauma was too much and she died a few hours later.
That really sucked, and it wasn’t anywhere as bad as what you had.
You did well. We can’t save them all.
In hospitals, the interns, the new docs are often the ones in charge of CPR and codes. The only useful advice that I ever heard regarding codes is this: They’re virtually all already dead. If you can bring them back, that’s great, but at the end of the day, most people who need CPR are being called home by God, and you aren’t going to get them back.
You did great.
I can’t say it better. Thanks for what you did.