On Tuesday, June 4th, 2024 I saw a man die and come back to life.
My therapist helped me to realize that, that scared me.
It was in one of my favorite places in Providence, by the Pedestrian bridge. He was in one bush, putting something in his veins.
I was by another bush, smoking weed by the water talking to my sister on the phone saying how blessed I felt to live in a place I could confidently call home.
I get off the phone and unlight my joint. I head to my car with a plan to get some more work done after my workday was already done.
I hear screaming. I nosely saunter over thinking it was a drunk public dispute.
A nerdy man waves me over and says, "it's an overdose, do you know where to find narcan?"
I do. I run to the nice office building across the street with a mission to get the narcan I knew was near the bathroom sink.
But then we see the ambulance...they are going the wrong way.
So we switch directions to waive them toward the dying man, left dead in bush, trying to escape from whatever with whoever by anything means necessary.
The ambulance gets to him and puts a shot in his veins. Hes still not moving so they apply pressure to his chest. Their blue gloves touch his blue veins trying to get a pulse.
His head looks red and hot like he's been baking in the sun all day.
More thrusts to the heart, more pressure, more pressure.
And finally...he jerks...back to life...back to reality.
He jerks again...back to life...back to normality.
He seems disoriented but he's alive...thank God.
I gave the ambulance man a thumbs up, thanking God for creating angels in human form.
First responders deserve a bigger check.
I start to walk to my car, unpacking what I just witnessed when a Botoxed Becky comes too close for comfort.
"Did you see what happened?" she asks.
"Yes, overdose, it's sad," I reply.
"Oh, well sometimes those guys are just mad you messed up their high," she suggests.
I think to myself that's an inhumane, unempathetic thing to say about a human being who was dead less than a few minutes ago but go head Botox Becky. But, the words that come to my lips simply say,
" I really just pray he finds the healing that he deserves, therapy is so expensive, I couldn't afford it myself just last year, so whatever is going on with him, I pray he finds the healing he needs"
She changes her tone, to a more somber note.
I walk to my car, away from the bullshit.
This is America, the land of red, white and blue.
Where 2 things can be happening at once, and both are true.
Where one person in a bush can chatter with glee about life and all of its intricacies.
And another person in a bush, just a few feet away could be nearing the end of his life, unintentionally.
Just a few feet away. Our realities so different.
But they intersected, if only for a few minutes.
I pray he's okay.
I call my sister when I'm back in my car to tell her what happened in the 10-minutes since we've been apart.
Back to life, back to reality.
Back to life, back to normality.
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