Sunday, July 14, 2013

Giving Drugs to Strangers

Several years ago I told myself that I couldn't let fear of social awkwardness thwart my charitable instincts.  I have to repeat it to myself sometimes when I think I can help but don't want to because it might be weird.  So then I'll do it.  And it is always weird.

Today I was on a flight back from Atlanta and it sounded like a man a few rows up was asking for medicine from a flight attendant.  The flight attendant offered him Tylenol, but said she didn't expect it to help his son's ears.  A woman in the row ahead of him mimed holding her nose and forcing air into her ears as a method that might help.  While it seemed like the man was getting plenty of input about his son's ear pain, I had a sack full of drugs I thought I should offer.

When I flew back from Munich the first time, I had a cold I had caught toward the end of my trip.  That plane flight was misery; my nose was running the whole time, I couldn't sleep, and the pressure forced junk into my ears so bad that I got an ear infection and spent the whole next week recovering.  But that time when I went to the doctor for the ear infection they didn't hand out antibiotics like candy (which I appreciate) but they told me to take Sudafed for several days to dry up the mucus and give my ears a chance to heal themselves.

This trip, when I was heading to Atlanta, I was at the tail end of a cold but I didn't want to take any chances.  I brought two packages of Sudafed (the good, behind-the-counter, show-your-ID, assure-the-pharmacist-you-won't-make-meth kind), a whole bottle of Benadryl (dual purpose since I was staying with a friend with a cat, which I'm allergic to), and a bottle of lorataine (also for the cat).

So I went up to the man with my box of Sudafed and offered it to him.  When I got to their row I could see his son had tears streaming down his face, indicating why they'd gone to the lengths of asking a flight attendant for meds.  I tried to explain what Sudafed was, that I had previously had a doctor indicate it for mucus getting into the ears, and I tried to make him read the back of the box including contraindications.  But he seemed to be foreign and I wasn't sure if he could read the box and I'm pretty sure "contraindications" wasn't in the vocabulary.  After the lady one row ahead had chimed in that she thought it would be better to try the Sudafed before the Tylenol he had given a tablet to his son before I really knew what was happening.

And that is how I came to give drugs to strangers.

Of course, after this, I worried that I shouldn't have done that and kept watching to see if I could confirm the kid was 1. moving 2. breathing and since he was in a seat I couldn't see then I wondered what kind of trouble I would be in if he did have a negative reaction.  But not too long after he was trading seats with his sisters and going down the aisle dry-eyed.  When his father passed me on his way to the restroom he said "After he took your tablet it was like a miracle.  Now he is fine!"

And that is how taking drugs from strangers turned out well for someone once.  A story which should never be repeated to any impressionable young children.