When I collapsed for my initial out-of-hospital cardiac arrest when I was 20, it was at a train station in an Australian town called Caboolture.
It was the closest train station to my home town on the Sunshine Coast, but had a reputation for being a rough neighbourhood, a town primarily occupied by people on welfare and social support, or retirees.
As such, it has a proportionally higher rate of crime and poverty, and is parodied for being an undesirable area of Australia — dis-affectionately known as “Cabo” — and memes of Caboolture dominate Australian culture.
So when I collapsed at the Caboolture train station, and required immediate CPR and assistance, it didn’t surprise me that when I met with some of the bystanders from that day, they said that most people walked over my body, thinking I was drunk, homeless, or on drugs.
It was only because I was wearing a suit, with a briefcase, that caused this particular couple to stop and ask if I was okay. Without that suit, if I had been in jeans and a shirt, I have no doubt I would not have got the assistance I needed soon enough.
So, thanks to that suit, I am still alive. I still have my business shirt that the paramedics tore off me to perform CPR in my bedside table as a reminder.
Always dress to impress, it may save your life