He lay unconscious on the blacktop path as four women stood around him asking, “What’s the matter with you?” Alas, he was dying. I was recently reminded of how we saved him, contrasting it to Elijah McClain’s death after police arrested him. Paramedics’ actions in both instances differed greatly, resulting in life for one, and death for the other.

For several years we had said a cursory Hi to each other as he jogged/walked and I ran around the park. You can’t develop friendship when one walks and the other runs. Still, when I came upon him that afternoon, he was in extremis and I had to “do something.”

In a few seconds I assessed his responses to verbal commands, breathing, pulse and skin color. Luckily he had collapsed outside the public swimming pool. A nurse anesthetist from my hospital was exiting the pool as I knelt beside the motionless figure. We carried out CPR together and in a few minutes he had a pulse. Paramedics arrived shortly and carried out their own assessment, relieving us from our active involvement.

I imagine what transpired with McClain didn’t approximate what was done for our jogger. For McClain, paramedics were called because he was uncontrollable, supposedly exhibiting “excited delirium.” Already handcuffed, he was pinned to the ground by a couple of burly cops, complaining that he couldn’t breathe. Cops wanted Ketamine administered to “control him.”

Our jogger was evaluated in a professional manner, with care and respect. A diagnosis of cardiac arrest was arrived at and managed by the anesthetist and myself. The paramedics who relieved us performed an excellent, professional job.

McClain had been walking home on a public path, listening to music, minding his own business, when someone called cops claiming he “looked suspicious.” On contact, cops placed him in a chokehold and wrestled him to the ground. Even though he was handcuffed, lying on his side, vomiting, he was injected with 1 ½ times the recommended dose of Ketamine. He lost consciousness, to never regain it.

So much of what was done to Elijah McClain was wrong and should concern everyone — no matter their skin color. That it was done by those sworn to serve and protect us compounds the tragedy. Reports of a person behaving erratically is not conclusive evidence that the subject of such a report is guilty of anything; indeed, cops have no cause to confront them aggressively. Cop bullying behavior diminishes the public’s respect for the force. McClain’s attackers’ unwarranted demeanor was magnified when they later texted jokes and photos, mocking chokeholds used on McClain before his death.

There is a tendency to forget a very simple rule: to whom great power is given, great responsibility and great care of how that power is exercised is expected. Unfortunately in our great nation, power given to many allows them to trample on the rights of others. It is the tragic story of many American police killings and abuse.

McClain’s October 2019 arrest and death was resurrected in my memory by a jury’s recent conviction of McClain’s two paramedics of criminal negligent homicide. I have outlined how our jogger’s paramedics diligently went about their lifesaving job. In McClain’s case, the paramedics’ actions to follow cops’ directives merely served to seal his fate.

None of us deserves to die on encountering the police — our servants, protectors and friends. Elijah McClain, a timid, law abiding soul deserved our protection; but he died. Transcripts of his last words: “I can’t breathe. I was just going home. I’m so sorry, I have no gun. I don’t fight. I don’t even kill flies. Forgive me. You are beautiful and I love you.” Police found these pleas for mercy hilarious.

The term “excited delirium” has been discarded in Colorado and across the nation. I feel badly for the two paramedics who in the heat of the moment unfortunately acquiesced to cops’ demands to act. They forgot that what drives all who care for the ill is the idea of healing the broken; making whole the sick. As medical providers we have an obligation to never allow our judgment to be swayed by others to commit noxious acts on the weak, the sick or others’ victims. This explains why the medical profession does not participate in capital punishment. McClain’s death approximates execution by Ketamine. The power of our knowledge must always be to serve and to never do harm.

Pius Kamau, M.D., a retired general surgeon, is president of the Aurora-based Africa America Higher Education Partnerships (AAHEP); co-founder of the Africa Enterprise Group, and an activist for minority students’ STEM education. He is a National Public Radio commentator, a Huffington Post blogger, a past columnist for Denver dailies, and is featured on the podcast, “Never Again.”