A few days back, a very dear friend of mine fell down while trying to do a somersault on the bars of our bus on the way back from school. His wrist was swollen and by the look of it, it seemed to be dislocated. He was shrieking in pain.
I wanted to help. I wanted to make him feel better. I wanted to take charge. But the problem was, seeing his hand that way made me feel nauseous. I felt completely dehydrated, my ears were blocked, I felt giddy and knew I was on the verge of fainting. Before I could help him, I had to help myself. I took out a bottle of water as quickly as I could and gulped down as many sips of water as it took me to calm down.
Recovering from my shock, I realised that everybody- the teacher along with the students-was trying to help, but wasn't really doing anything, only talking about what they should do. The teacher had already spoken to his mother who decided that the child should be dropped at his bus stop from where she would pick him up and take him to the hospital even though reaching the stop would take half an hour and an additional 15-20 minutes to go to the hospital.
I knew I couldn't argue with the teacher to take him straight to the hospital so I tried doing the best I could at that time- reducing the pain. Recalling everything I knew about first aid, I got what according to me was a wonderful idea. I decided to divert his attention from the pain. He's not in the same grade as me so I asked him about his class teacher. Still in pain, he answered my question. Second question. But this time, instead of answering like he had previously, he got agitated and commanded me to stop asking him questions. I felt a bit embarrassed at that and so I sat back in my seat not knowing what else to do.
After some time, I thought of another idea which, once again didn't work out too well. I remembered that my friend had bought a can of Coke a while ago which I believed could serve as a cold pack and help reduce both the swelling and the pain. I asked him if he wanted it but once more, he screamed at me to leave him alone. By that time we had neared his bus stop and I wondered if it were best not to talk about the injury and so, that's what I did.
Soon, we had reached my stop. I got off, stealing glances at him, not knowing what to say. 'Get well soon' seemed quite stupid and therefore I quietly went without uttering a single word.
This incident has taught me a hundred things at the same time. From my friend, who was in a very bad condition at that time yet remained strong, I learnt self-control. I knew that if I were in his place, I would have been howling but he, knowing that everyone was trying their best to do whatever they could, controlled himself. Sitting silently, he bared the pain. From my teacher, I grasped the art of staying calm even in the most disastrous of situations. She managed not to panic and talked to the boy's mother in an imperturbable tone. The instructor didn't let what she knew- how bad the injury really was- show on her face. Not wanting to further panic the child, she acted like it weren't that big a deal. And most of all, I learnt from myself that in devastating situations such as this, the most important thing is not to panic yourself, for fear is healthy but panic is deadly. You can't lose control on yourself if you want to take charge of the situation. I also learnt that things don't always go as planned, but you need to give it another try and not simply give up. This incident may not be great but it has taught me great things which I know I will never forget.
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