When a bullet tore into his chest, Carlton Cohen called his mom before he called 911. Cohen, then 33, had been watching the 2008 U.S. presidential election on TV when someone knocked on the door of his apartment in the cityâs Moss Park area for the second time that night. When Cohen asked who was there, the shooter opened fire.Three bullets ripped through the door, one of them piercing his left side.âI said, âMom, Iâm shot.â And she just began to scream . . . and after, she couldnât cry, she began to moan,â Cohen said.He assured her heâd be OK, then called 911. Rushed to Torontoâs St. Michaelâs Hospital, he remembers a nurse saying two things before he lost consciousness. âShe said, âThe bullet is travelling.â I didnât know that bullets could travel in you,â Cohen recalled. âAnd after, she said, âHeâs dying, weâre losing him.â âHe begged God for a second chance before passing out.At least 682 people have been shot in Toronto during the past four and a half years (as of June 20), according to Toronto police statistics. Like Cohen, most wonât die; 91 per cent of shooting victims from 2013 to mid-2017 have survived their injuries.Although they emerge with their lives, rarely do survivors of shootings walk away without scars, both physical and emotional. And the impact doesnât just hurt the victim â like the epicentre of an earthquake, the shock wave blasts outwards, washing over and consuming friends, family and community. To talk about shooting victims is to talk about loss, said Lindsay Upton, a program manager at Victim Services Toronto, which provides support for victims and witnesses of traumatic incidents and their families. Upton has worked for the agency for nearly 14 years. âWhen someone is shot, not only are their bones shattered by the bullet . . . their complete lives are shattered ...
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