I am used to helping people. It’s what I do.
Despite my very sheltered upbringing, I’ve had friends who have battled anorexia, cut themselves, dealt with abusive parents – and I’ve been there for them as much as for the friends who needed relationship and romance advice.
I went to Barton Springs today with a handful of friends. As I was leaving, I noticed a woman passed out in the woods. I had seen her drinking and maybe she would sleep it off, but what if she had alcohol poisoning? I could see that she was still breathing, but was there any way for me to know if her situation was dangerous?
I asked for help because people were just walking by and I didn’t know how to handle the situation properly on my own. I was able to recruit a few folks who roused her and oriented her and I was about to head out, confident that she was in fine hands – or at least better than mine.
As I was about to go, a tremendous fight broke out between two young and muscular men. I didn’t see how it started, but one man fiercely punched the other in the face – breaking his nose. The amount of blood was tremendous – more than I’ve ever seen – and I stuck around to offer water to the injured person and to see if medical attention was needed and if an ambulance should be called. I turned to other people to come over and help because I didn’t know how to handle the situation on my own.
I left before the police came but after making sure that the bloodied person was safe and tended to for the moment. Should I not have gotten involved in either situation? Could I have done more? Should I have stayed and given a description of the person who threw the punch to the police? (He had a clearly identifiable tattoo pattern.)
Over the past months, I have found myself more and more ministering to other people through words, touch, love and sound advice. But I felt a bit helpless today and I don’t want to feel as helpless the next time around.
posted by ayo