talking to strangers

I spoke to a young punk* at the grocery store this afternoon. They were wearing a jacket with "Serve/Remember/Carry Nalaxone" in big letters across the back, and I was moved to compliment it when we were waiting in line. There was a pause while we put things on the conveyor belt (because "great jacket" and "thanks" form a complete conversation.) Then they turned and asked if I carry nalaxone. And offered to help set me up with some and show me how to use it, which was very kind of them.

I do not have my act sufficiently together to carry a first-aid kit around. I can't even remember to carry my own migraine meds these days, as the last time I had effective migraine meds I wasn't carrying a cell phone, and I used my 20th century shoulders to carry a backpack with ease and comfort. But there were a couple of occasions last summer when I encountered strangers who...weren't doing well in the heat. I wanted to ask "are you ok?" but what could happen after that? I was in no position to actually help. I started carrying little bottles of water around just in case, but the added weight of a pint of water was a bit of a strain.

Then again, nalaxone doesn't weigh much.



*using "punk" in the descriptive, not derogatory, sense