As a regular blog-reader of mine may know, I often attempt to engage in random acts of kindness. Dropping a card in the mail for a friend that's been blue, sending a surprise package on a just-because day, letting someone with fewer items or young children go ahead of me in line at the store, and especially attempting to commit one act of driving kindness a day are all part of my regular routine.
Well, one day I must've earned at least a glimmer more shine on my halo.....
I was working at a sliding-fee scale healthcare provider's office doing several different programs. I filed charts, I worked with the indigent drug program, I worked with the Ryan White HIV/AIDS coordinator, I did some of my favorite work ever for the Breast & Cervical Health Program.... and one fateful day as I was driving up to work, I did the best deed of my life. Really.
Now, I'm not one to get particularly squeamish when it comes to seeing icky things. After working with horses, when they get hurt, it's usually a big drastic affair. We had a horse at the ranch I worked on that sliced her shoulder to the bone leaving a big flap of skin on it.... which she then tore the stitches out of (while in a neck cradle, ON A HIGHLINE.... BY HERSELF!) and then developed massive infection, pus, oozing... and finally (and I suppose most revolting of all...) got maggots in it. A topic which my fellow wranglers and I discovered was not precisely dinner conversation as we were happily talking about the advantages of them consuming the necrotic flesh while munching on our gooey lasagna.... while every other crew member, we eventually noticed, was turning green and had lost their appetites entirely. Ooops! Not exactly polite dinner conversation, I suppose.
So not much can phase me when it comes to SEEING wounds. But anything that really smells... anyone's vomit, rotting dishes, old garbage... yeah, that's instant puke factory material. I just cannot handle something stinky.
Enter my best deed ever committed IN MY LIFE. No, really.
I pulled up to work that morning, parking on the far side of the parking lot, as per normal procedure. I began walking across to the front door when a large woman inside a car that was jam-packed to the gills caught my eye. She was clearly in distress, trying to get out of her car, and I rushed over to help. That's when the smell assailed me and I involuntarily gagged. I couldn't help it, I had to cover my mouth and nose as I asked (choked) if she needed my help. She was covered in diarrhea. Her car interior was covered in it... it was even coming out of her pants legs onto the asphalt as she struggled to get out of her car. She was obviously homeless and had been living in her vehicle, and now it was beyond befouled. I rushed over and put her arm over my shoulders to help her out, and slowly, squishily, we made our way to the doors. I couldn't help it. The gagging was awful, even only breathing through my mouth. I felt as though I could taste it, even. But she was thanking me over and over for helping her, and she was crying and desperately embarrassed. My heart broke for her. I have no idea the circumstances that led her to being homeless living in her car, struck down by a symptom that makes even the best of us feel horrible and want to confine ourselves away from all of civilization... and I discovered something about myself when I didn't even think twice as I helped her walk in. I hollered for medical right away to help her as we got in the doors... and far more competent hands than mine took over. Gloved. Thankfully.
I am no saint. I reacted just as I did because that was just what I did. However, I will admit I used hefty doses of hand sanitizer afterwards, and was still a bit unsettled in my guts come lunchtime (the entire front area of the office was decidedly .... aromatic... for a couple of days); the chair they settled her into in the waiting room had to be actually thrown away. But for one moment, I saw what maybe I am made of... that underneath it all, when it came down to helping, I just plugged my nose and jumped right in without a second thought. I might've lost my appetite for a bit, but it was a small price indeed to help someone truly in need... and hopefully work a bit of this tarnish off this halo.
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