THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

“People, people who need people, are the luckiest people in the world.” (Barbra Streisand in “Funny Girl”)

On Thursday last I had a very strange experience on the way to the eye doctor’s office. Without notice I suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous and my whole body felt limp and noodle-y. I wove my way down the street like a drunken sailor (probably that comment is no longer PC) and didn’t quite make it to the doctor’s office. An ambulance was called. I spent the next twelve hours in a hallway in Emergency – always entertaining – had several jabs and scans, and went home early the next morning. Tests are ongoing but COVID has been ruled out. Could be that I’m pushing too hard to get the house up for sale (who knew how much junk we were hiding in plain sight?) and get through a slew of “COVID-deferred” appointments in order to leave for the land of Aloha. I’m determined to finish my 52nd blog in Hawaii, where it all began. (At this point I’m prepared to swim there. At last count five family members had COVID and I’m scared to step out the door.)

But more than anything, I want to focus on the kindness of the strangers who bent over my doubled-up body to see if they could help me. Fearing I had COVID, I initially shooed them away, insisting that my husband was coming to get me, but to whom, in my confusion, I twice gave the wrong address, sending him in the opposite direction. Sensing some urgency when I vomited on the street, the same kind lady who’d been waiting for him with me, called an ambulance, which seemed to take ages, or maybe it just appeared that way when the remains of my breakfast were pooling at my feet. Barely able to lift my head, I noticed the feet of a small but concerned knot of people hovering solicitously around me, rubbing my back and murmuring encouragement. Very brave, considering I could have had COVID.

The paramedics who arrived (one an earnest trainee who is going to excel in his chosen field) were equally competent and caring, asking pertinent questions or chatting amiably for the few short blocks it took to reach the hospital. Turns out the other, more experienced paramedic was a fellow ocean “dipper” who suggested good swimming spots on the North Shore after hearing I was moving there. (I know, there’s so much more to tell you. Life keeps happening while I’m making other plans!) So too, the ambulance driver went above and beyond the call of duty, hunting around the busy (an understatement) emergency department to find me a wheelchair, and eventually a bed. So moved by this compassion, I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in a state of dozy “all will be well” equanimity.

It helped that I listened to hour upon hour (upon hour) of healing mantra, relaxation and meditation recordings that distracted me from the noise and activity swirling (quite literally) around me. Towards the end of my visit, I switched to Frazier reruns, laughing to pass the time until Jim came back to ’liberate’ me. Laughter is indeed one of the best medicines.

I. Just. Can’t. Imagine. Working. Under. Those. Conditions!!!

Never has it been more apparent, or compelling that our health care system and the front-line workers in it are under tremendous, soul-crushing pressure. I do not have any easy answers to the bigger issues behind the scenes that unfolded before me in Emergency. But I know what eased my anxiety. The kindness of doctors, nurses, orderlies and strangers on the street. The simple act of asking if I wanted a warm blanket (I eventually accumulated enough to remake an inverse of the Princess and the Pea) was appreciated like water in the desert. As was the offer of actual water after hours spent wilting away in a corridor.

I wish there was a way I could personally thank all these hardworking people for their support and caring and expertise. When I described the incident to a friend, she said it restored her faith in humanity. As it did mine. Upon reflection, I realize that my best contribution may well be to pay it forward. Repay my debt of gratitude with random acts of kindness. Be present and attentive to whomever, or wherever, I see a need.

P.S. As if to drive home this theme of the kindness of others, one ill grandson’s hockey team dropped off a care package of treats for him and his siblings; a grand-daughter missed a “stuffy-themed” (as in stuffed animals) birthday party so the hosts included her via Zoom; and muffins were dropped off to yet another self-isolating family. Random acts of kindness all. Bringing into high relief the importance of community, of looking out for neighbors and strangers, and leaving the world just a little bit better by your individual efforts.

And a reminder to always carry water and a couple of snacks in one’s backpack or purse for Emergency ’room’ purposes.

Oh. And get a COVID booster ASAP.