Getting home at night is always an adventure. For example, I usually end up stranded in a neighboring village, being followed by a creepy bum or getting rained on halfway through my journey. My luck with the whole process is just really subpar.

Why I expected today to be any different is beyond me.

The day started off decently enough. I woke up early to visit a German high school, but it turned out that our teacher had mixed up the dates. So it was back to regular old class for us.

Our school day ended with a few presentations done by members from the class, the last of which was a presentation from Zach and his group on the topic of German wine.

As luck would have it, another obnoxious American spilled wine all over the front of my shirt. I should have taken that as a sign.

My Wohnheim

After class I headed back to “Neuhaldenstrasse” (not Neuhalde) to finish some things and change my clothes.

About three blocks from my Wohnheim the obligatorily stressful part of my journey reared its ugly head. Right as I turned the corner an old woman collapsed in front of me.

Really? Why do these things always happen to me!?

I ran to her and helped her regain her bearings a bit. Another student behind me rushed to her other side. Together we helped her turn around and sit on the half wall she had collided with on her way down.

Suddenly, Germans started coming from everywhere! Everyone was so willing to help! Even though the Germans generally keep to themselves, they jumped right in when they were needed.

Soon, a middle-aged woman took control of the situation and sent everyone except the other student and me away. It became clear that the woman had nicked up her arm pretty badly. She started bleeding onto her sandals and onto the sidewalk.

After a short debate, the three of us decided that an ambulance wasn’t necessary, but that we would take her home to call her general practice physician. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with this decision, but being an exchange student I didn’t exactly have much say in it. I was in a state of shock about what had just happened, and wasn’t quite equipped with the vocabulary I needed to argue this point with them.

We got her to her feet and eventually had her explain the directions to her home a couple blocks away.

Once there we worked on cleaning up her arm and trying to get ahold of a family member. She mentioned that the only person looking after her was her daughter, and we eventually got her to tell us her daughter’s number. Despite a couple of tries, the number never went through.

The older woman began to get annoyed that we were encouraging her to sit down and wanted us to leave. However, none of us thought it was a good idea to leave her alone.

We couldn’t find the number for her family doctor, and sat for a while considering what options we had left. Soon enough, the woman in charge noticed a church bulletin on a coffee table. She must have been familiar with the church because she immediately formulated a plan.

She began speaking really quickly (in schwabisch- the regional dialect) and began relaying directions to the other student and me. Although I didn’t quite pick up everything she said, I got the gist that she wanted us to get the older woman to sit down while the middle-aged woman ran to get information from the church.

After about an hour of this whole situation, the middle-aged woman figured it would be okay if the other student and I left. She was able to get in contact with some family or friends that would check in often.

On my way back to my Wohnheim I found my arms covered in blood and dirt, my pulse still a little high and maybe just a little bit proud that I had navigated this entire situation in German.

Looking back now on the whole situation, I’m reminded of the good in people. No one had to stay with her, they could have simply called the police and left. But instead this middle-aged woman decided to spend her entire afternoon helping this other woman find help.

But I’m also reminded of why I want to go into medicine. There is just something about the feeling of knowing you made a difference in someone’s life, even if that difference is simply asking if someone is okay, holding their hand, and walking them home.