Overcoming the Bystander Effect, Kind Of.

So, as I mentioned in my last post, my days in Toledo were mostly great. But I also mentioned that something really unfortunate happened. After debating for a few days about whether or not I wanted to share this story, and to what extent of detail, I am finally attempting to let this all out.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic, this is a horrifying story. And though I am not directly involved in what happened, it's kind of life-changing. I have spent approximately half of the last 4 days thinking about it, while simultaneously trying to "get over it". But I don't really know how. Aside from the friends who were with me when it happened, I have talked about it with less than a handful of people. Hopefully sharing it will help me to clear my mind a bit more. So here goes.

Friday was a fairly carefree day for Bailey, Elizabeth, and me. We, (or should I say, I) woke up in the early afternoon, and not really wanting to jump directly on a bus to Madrid, we decided to stay in Toledo an extra night. We didn't really do much all day, but we did go out for tapas at night. We left our favorite restaurant around 1 AM, trying to decide if we should get another drink or not on the way home.

About 2 minutes after leaving the restaurant, we heard an American girl crying hysterically in English saying, "Where is she?? Is she alive?? Tell me where she is!!" Her friends, not native English speakers, were forcefully trying to calm her down. The three of us just looked at each other, confused. Should we help?

To be honest, my first instinct was that she was probably just really drunk. After all, it was 1 AM on a Friday night, and she was probably just talking about a cat or something. But after some more crying and screaming, between the three of us, we decided to ask and make sure everything was okay. But we never expected the situation that we walked into.

It turns out that the crying girl has been living in Toledo, and she had 2 friends from home come to visit her that morning. They were hanging out at another friend's apartment, when one of the American girls somehow fell from the 3rd floor to the ground patio. This part of the story is still rather unclear. We don't really know if she was drinking, or how much she was drinking, or where she fell from, or how. All I know is that I took a peek into the patio and saw one of the most horrifying sights of my life. As one who does not handle blood or injury well, I knew that I couldn't go out into the patio.

Because the police and ambulance had not arrived yet, our first priority was making sure they had been called. The scene was rather chaotic, as you can imagine. The fact that there were three of us meant that we could all simultaneously talk to the people involved, try to offer support and calm them, and help with translation issues between the girls and the police when needed. I cannot imagine going through this experience in my hometown, in my native language. To be in a foreign country and speaking a foreign language must have made it all the more upsetting.

The scene was just so chaotic. None of her friends really knew what happened, or how, or what to do next. There were so many police, many of whom weren't in uniform, and none of whom spoke English. The poor woman who lived in the bottom apartment was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as well. And the truth is, none of us really knew how the girl was doing. One of her friends was a nurse, and luckily, she was able to help her and stay with her, but none of us knew whether the outcome would be good or bad. When the ambulance came, they were able to stabilize her. They were with her for a long time, and then they took her to the nearest hospital. The next day, we learned that they were going to keep her in a coma for a few days. And as of yesterday, we heard that they are still waiting, but that she seems to be doing a little better.

Having seen all of this, everything seems kind of trivial now. Everything we were worried about all day paled in comparison to the events that unfolded. I can't help but be grateful for life. I thank God for his protection, and pray that he will continue to protect me and my loved ones. I know it seems like a crazy detail, but some of my friends actually lived in the apartment that this girl fell from last year. When I think about that, I can't help but think about how it could have been any of us, and I just thank God that it wasn't.

At the same time, I am terrified of accidents now. To think that you could look forward to a trip to Spain for so long, show up, and end up in a coma on your first night there leaves me with a gnawing sense of discomfort, knowing that the world is chaotic and life is unfair. I am suddenly afraid of being so far away from my family, should anything happen to me, or God forbid, to one of them. I know that "God has a plan for everything", but when you see something like this, it's hard to see what good can possibly come of it. The whole ordeal has left me with both deeper faith and deeper questioning. Every time she crosses my mind, I pray for her and her friends and family, and I just can't imagine the pain and feelings that they are having to deal with. If I am this affected by it, imagine what they feel.

And somehow, I still feel really guilty. Despite the fact that we did stop to help, I keep thinking about how I almost didn't stop. I wanted to keep on walking. Bystander effect, right? If there's really a problem, someone else will help. Getting involved with a hysterical stranger at 1 AM didn't really seem like a good idea. But I just thank God that my friends talked me into it. Now I can't imagine not stopping. I can't imagine having to go through that situation alone, especially in a foreign language. I think that our presence helped to calm the girls down, and I think they were really grateful that we were there.

So did we overcome the bystander effect? I guess so. But as a psychology major, having studied it so much in school, I wish my first instinct would have told me to stop and help a stranger.

Anyway, I just ask that you pray for Lauren, the girl who fell, and for her friends, Megan and Julie, and her family. I really can't imagine how horrible of a phone call that must have been, on either end. Pray for healing, and for peace and comfort.

And the next time you see someone that might need help, stop. Because you may be helping more than you really know.