Are you and I living out fragments of the same life, Iso? If so, we need to develop some sort of a warning system for horrific events like this.

Some three years ago my wife and a friend and I came upon the pale, corpulent hulk of a dying man. His bride of three weeks was too stunned to do anything, and his purple face and lack of a pulse meant it wasn't much use anyhow. I live in a small enough town that there is no anonymity, so I knew who they were. I am big enough to compress a large man's chest and did so repeatedly for the twenty minutes it took to get the emergency medical service truck to the scene. For some reason, the final stages of brain death happened after the emt's got there. It was interesting in a garish sort of way.

Why does the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner come to mind?