By Giulia Cox

Growing up in a city, sometimes it feels as though I have become numb to some of the most basic human reactions when it comes to suffering. Riding on the subway almost daily for the past 7 years has helped me master an unsympathetic stare that I can pull out anytime someone comes in the care asking for money. I know, its a terrible thing to do, but a lot of New Yorkers have this stigma against giving people on the subway money, and its not until you get out of the city that you realize what a terrible person you are. 

I remember I was taking the train back from work, I had my eyes closed and my head leaned back against a map, I was 7 stops away from home. The first thing that caught me off guard was the smell, after years on taking trains I’ve become fairly familiar with the smell of BO or human waste, but this was different, It smelled like death. I opened my eyes to see a tall stocky man leaning against a pole 10 feet away from me, but focus went immediately on his leg. It only took me a second, because I quickly adverted my eyes after looking, but I knew that leg was fucked. It had swollen up twice the size of the other, there was a greenish black tint covering at least two thirds of the calf. He started talking, begging for anyone to help him, asking for any change, I decided to take a second look. His face looked drained, his breathing was heavy and he had a confused and scared look on his face. I knew immediately, his leg had gone gangrene and he was minutes away from going into septic shock. 

But what was I going to do with this information, tell him to get his leg amputated? It was obvious that if he had access to a hospital he would have gone by now. I felt so lost, I didn’t know what to do, how could I help him. I looked to the other passengers for guidance, but they where all staring off pretending they didn’t notice. The man started limping towards me, crying out desperately for any change, any help. I froze, I didn’t know what to do, I felt helpless, and then I felt angry at myself for feeling helpless, but still I couldn’t move. As he passed my heart sank and my eyes lowered, just like everyone else. I got off that train and all I could think of was “damn, I’m a horrible person.” 

I could end this story by saying something like “now I give money to every homeless person I see!” But that just isn’t realistic, instead, this experience has taught me to never overlook someones trouble. Even if its just taking an extra second to look at the person collapsed on the floor to determine if they are sleeping, or if I need to call 911, is something I’ve gained from this experience, and although that may not seem like a lot, its enough to save a life.