I barely glanced up as the 40-something woman stepped onto the bus today: I was tired and trying to read without getting motion sick. So I was already glancing down again when she fell backwards through the folding double doors and landed in the snow. I might have doubted my eyes had not the driver and another passenger immediately sprung up to help the struggling woman to her feet.
At first I thought she had just slipped, but when the two men finally managed to push her limp but alert form back onto the platform, I realized something much worse had happened. The woman was completely non-responsive to questioning, and looked as though she couldn't - or wouldn't - move her legs. Was she embarrassed and wanting to avoid showing her face? Was she indignant and resisting help? Was she even aware of what was going on?
About five minutes passed with several passengers trying to elicit a word or two, when the woman suddenly stood on her own power, paced about the front of the bus a bit, and finally sat down.
"Are you hurt?"
"Do you need medical attention?"
"Are you all right?"
The answer to all these and many more questions remained nothing more than a blank stare with occasional flashes of confusion at all the attention. Finally, the mystery woman stood up and, to everyone's amazement, removed her shirt.
That was how I found out that she had been endowed in the house of the Lord, and how I finally determined that her mind was not fully cooperative at the moment. I think that's also what finally convinced the driver to radio for help. He had his dispatcher call 911, several passengers tried to convince the woman to re-dress herself, and I averted my eyes, grateful for the heads of the passengers in front of me.
That's about the time that it occurred to me that, had this woman not been endowed, she might have been considerably worse off. Suffice to say that some of the characters on the bus were far from kind. But she was protected by the promises associated with her honoring her covenants in a way that I hadn't really considered before.
Another bus on the same route arrived, and I felt compelled to approach the suffering woman. By this time, the woman had seated herself and draped a coat over her shoulder like a blanket so she was covered again, and the majority of the passengers were transferring to the other bus. Aside from the woman there were five of us left including the driver - all male.
I introduced myself and, to my surprise, the woman responded. She still looked confused when I asked if she was hurt, so I explained what had happened. She tried to tell me about a medical condition of hers, but couldn't remember the right words. Instead, she slipped her coat on correctly and zipped it up. When the paramedics arrived a moment later, we quickly determined that the correct term for her problem was "seizures." Although still taking her medications, the woman had experienced two seizures in as many weeks, with the latest coming as she boarded the bus. A side effect was that she couldn't remember anything that had happened during the last twenty minutes.
Apart from biting her tongue when she fell, she was unhurt and refused to go the the hospital because she couldn't afford it, having no insurance. So the paramedics left and I resumed my conversation with my new friend, whose name I will not disclose, but to whom I will hereafter refer as Julie.
Julie gradually became more lucid and I asked where she was getting off the bus, and if there was someone who could help her when she got there. By now Julie had discovered her shirtless condition and I explained it to her as delicately as I could. She gave me the phone number of a friend, and I called to make the arrangements. For the rest of the ride, we discussed the nature of Julie's medical troubles and possible ways to get her in to see a doctor, as the paramedics had strongly recommended. Because of what I had seen earlier I knew I could suggest that she talk to her bishop. She seemed to take that idea seriously although my mentioning it surprised her, perhaps because I hadn't asked if she was Mormon, perhaps for some other reason.
Julie got off at the appointed place, and her friend picked her up a few minutes later. That same friend later called to thank me and to clarify what I had said about the bishop. Apparently Julie had remembered that part of the conversation and related it to her friend, but without being totally clear on the details of my suggestion.
The bus driver, now almost an hour behind schedule, kindly called for permission to use a faster route to deliver his passengers to their destinations. The man in the back was sleeping, so I approached him to ask where he wanted to get off. He appeared to be homeless, although one cannot always tell, but his reaction when he awakened at least confirmed that he was in a sorry state, because he screamed at me to keep my "*@#$^&#*@#, homosexual, &@#^@ hands" to myself and stormed off the bus, stopping to yell at another man on the way. The driver claimed the man was obviously drunk, but I didn't smell any alcohol, personally.
I have no desire to ridicule this man, but I do feel that it was good that he slept through the incident with Julie. He might have caused quite a scene, and, although this is purely speculative on my part, his missing it might have been yet another form of protection Julie received by honoring her covenants.
