Hospital violence

I think back to why I started volunteering at Huntington Hospital. Part of it was the girls I might meet. Part of it was that Gina worked there for a while. Much of it was that it's just 300 yards from 757 S. Raymond (but I still drive almost every Tuesday). Oh, and part of it was the bit Matthew Modine did in Gross Anatomy. Mostly, I just want some good karma points.

I never thought I would be afraid for my life.

Yesterday I experienced what Kevin Costner's character in Tin Cup would call a 'defining moment'. A young woman walked through the front doors and towards the elevators. I was reading the magazine, so if i noticed it, I did so subconsciously.

Twelve long seconds later, a young man darted through the front doors and sprinted towards the elevators. Weird, I thought, he could just yell to her. Maybe he was worried that she would not notice him. I've been in similar situations. He was quick, so I couldn't go back to US News & World Report without seeing what was going on sixty feet to my right.

Now sixty feet is quite a ways for someone with keratoconus, and no corrective lenses. But as he approached her, I could see her begin to cower. I could hear him shouting angrily. He swung with his right fist. She was quick, and pulled away. He swung again, this time with a left that landed squarely on her neck and jaw. Thud. What a sound. I've seen fights in grade school. Calum bitch-slapped me and everyone else on the rugby team, but it was always funny. This was hard. I was in shock. "Stop!!!" A voice inside me did not yell.

A thousand thoughts rushed through my head. Adrenaline surged through my body. Never hit a friend. Don't hit a girl. Never use physical violence. This was wrong on so many levels, and I froze. What if he had a gun? What would I do? Would i really fight this guy over a girl I don't know? What if he had a knife? Damn, I should have paid better attention when Greg and Max were teaching those CQC moves.

She was still on her feet, which was remarkable given how hard he hit her. He swung again, and she went down. He was yelling but I couldn't understand him. She was yelling, probably saying, "Stop!!!" x5282. Security. Get someone to the Main Lobby now. I remember saying. They have a badge, but not a gun. I remember thinking. I was standing up now, starting to move out of my cubicle. He was gaining some semblance of composure, if such a gangbanger ever could in a hospital lobby.

She skulked back out of the hospital, and away from the white Monte Carlo with tinted windows. After some yelling, I couldn't believe she got in his car. A nurse informed me their baby was in the back seat. She had their home address, she told the security officer who arrived 90 seconds after the car squealed out of the dropoff area. He instructed her to call the police, and report the incident. A black & white would be dispatched, and hopefully he would be at least a little bit concerned. Hopefully the young woman wouldn't get it again.

I gave the nurse my name, address, phone number, and began to sulk over my inability to act. Maybe Womack or Greg or Max can tell me what is the best thing to do, should I ever find myself in that situation again. I don't know. I don't want to stew over this anymore. When a defining moment comes along, you define the moment, or the moment defines you.

I wish I could know her story. And maybe his. I wish I could talk to her, tell her about her rights. I wish he could learn the errors of his ways (as I see them). I wish I knew 1/2 of the takedown moves Greg knows. I wish this world were a better place.

Now I'm tired, and I have to think of something a little more uplifting before I go to sleep. Now if my damn girlfriend wouldn't shut the hell up, I wouldn't have to beat her down again. That was funny in my head.

I love her. She makes me happy. Tomorrow I can make up for Tuesday's inaction. Tomorrow I will do a lot.