There's a new chap at work. I don't know him at all. Today I found him off by the break table, blurry-eyed and shaky. I'm concerned but head to the bathroom for the moment. Try not to get involved.
He had surges of pain every now and then. He was clutching his chest. He would turn red. I ask him what's up. Be carfeul you don't get involved.
He's 21. He has no insurance. He won't call an ambulance. He won't see a doctor. He can't afford any of these things. He's more afraid of losing his job than dying. Don't get involved.
He gets this attack every day in varying degrees. His girlfriend broke his heart. She says he has a faulty valve. They are still together. Don't get involved.
I thought about lending him money. I thought about driving him to the emergency room. All I could do was sit there and listen to him dump everything about his emotional and physical trauma in the last few months. Don't get involved.
Logically, it can take a chunk of your life to help heal a potential faulty heart. And somewhere a thought in me screams "You can't do anything. Don't get involved."
Stupid thoughts. Go back to your frigid cave.
You're the reason I don't think I'll sleep tonight.