Sisterly Love

I recently visited the City of Brotherly Love- Philadelpha, PA. Now coming from NYC, where it is quite common to be pushed out of the way, yelled at, or even spit on by a complete stranger, Philadelphia was quite a treat.

My first night in Philly had the potential to be disasterous. As I was walking to a bar, my big toe swung straight into a railway track in the middle of the street. I screamed some "big people" words (eliciting stares from passerbyers; they've obviously never been to New York) and hobbled over to the other side of the street. About fifteen people asked me if I was okay. I wasn't okay, there was blood gushing down the side of my foot and filling up my flip flop. There was a ghastly chunk of skin hanging on for dear life. I wasn't sure if I was going to live.

My friend helped me walk the rest of the way and down to the bathroom in the pub. We grabbed some paper towels and started blotting but the blood wouldn't stop. A lady came out of a stall, took one look at me, and said, "There are two doctors upstairs, I'll go get them!". Meanwhile, there was a girl washing her hands, who kept making sure I was okay. She would look at me every once in while and say, "Just calm down! It'll be all right!" (This made me laugh a lot because I'm not sure I could've been any calmer. I wasn't even crying or anything.)

The woman came back with her daughter, who is a student in Physician Assistance. Like efficient EMT's, they directed me to sit on the sink, and helped me lift my leg so my toe was under the spicket. This, I might add, was no easy task. The bathroom was extremely skinny, with about 3 feet between the stalls and the sink. With my back leaning against the wall and my body stretched across the counter, I literally took up the whole bathroom.
She asked me if I had HIV, to which my friend quickly responded, "NO mam, you will not find cleaner blood than hers." (Thanks, girl). Then she got to work. She cleaned it out and stopped the bleeding. After determining that stitches weren't necessary, she started poking the bottom of my foot to make sure I wasn't losing feeling; I wasn't. The "Calm Down" girl came back with a first aid kit. Her boyfriend owned the bar and when he discovered that there was an injured person in the bathroom, he sent her upstairs to his apartment for peroxide and gauze. She bandaged my poor little tootsie up and with the call of duty overwith, returned upstairs.

My friend and I just sat for a minute, not even believing that all of that had just happened. One minute I was in a desperate situation and not fifteen minutes later, thanks to the help of three strangers, I was able to go enjoy the rest of the night.

I am just so grateful for those angel ladies, and the call of duty they responded to for somebody they didn't even know.

(PS/ We ended up having a great time and finished the night with two steaming hot cheesesteaks. Yummm)