At the end of a year and the beginning of another, emotions tend to run high.
Whether it be the loss of a loved one or the tangled web of interactions with relatives; an unexpected illness or travel plan glitches; wonderful moments to cherish or joyful connections – all are wrapped up like presents topped with emotional bows.
The opening and unraveling part often takes courage and creativity.
This is a series of three short vignettes involving emotions and circumstance, fitting for the changing of seasons and passing of time.
Part One: Empathy
A couple of years ago, during a previously unusual snowstorm in Seattle, I was carefully driving home from work in sub-freezing temperatures. I had seen many patients who braved dangerous travel that day to get medical care from me, and was feeling satisfied that I was able to be of help.
On my snow route home, I got off the main road to stop and wait for a light to turn green before crossing the overpass to get to the icy side streets that led to my home just a mile away.
A man was holding a cardboard sign with a scrawled plea for help. He had a coat on, hood up, partly protected from the dense snow that was blowing everywhere.
As he approached my car, I hastily grabbed a $20 bill from my purse and rolled my window down, the sudden icy cold wind rushing into my warm car. His face lit up when he saw my gesture, and he came close by.
I held out my offering. He reached out and our fingers touched for a brief moment. He was not wearing gloves, and I had taken mine off to get into my wallet.
My breathing stopped as I saw his hands. All ten fingers were shriveled and had turned black.
I looked up at his face and our eyes met. That moment seemed like an eternity but it only lasted a few seconds. His expression of thanks was almost imperceptible.
Our interaction was abruptly halted as the light turned green and I had to drive on.
I turned onto the overpass and drove two blocks further. I then pulled over, knowing that I was risking getting stuck as I pulled off the road into deeper snow next to the hidden curb.
My tears flowed and I couldn’t stop crying long enough to continue driving. I could only think of the next 24 hours in this man’s life, hoping that someone would find him if he fell or lay down.
I hoped that he would be taken by ambulance to Harborview ER, our region’s Level 1 trauma center. I thought of the amputations that needed to happen. I wondered if he would get subsequent care.
I am still moved by the vivid memory of our fingers touching for that brief moment.
Our eyes meeting.
The contrast in circumstances.
Food, water, and shelter are essential for human life.
And,
Empathy.
Click here to read Part Two!