I fasted one day last summer. I wanted to clean my system out; it is a healthy thing to do. I used to do it when I was younger. I was a lot healthier then. I was trying to get back to it, to being healthy. I had not eaten anything since the day before, eighteen or twenty hours ago. I had only eaten a little then. I ate nothing after that. I was drinking water, but not enough. I was dehydrated. And that day was really hot.

Don’t run around the city when fasting in a heat wave. That is not a good idea. It is too much for your body. It is asking for disaster. And I had a disaster.

I passed out on the D train going to Fountain House. I was trying to get back my Social Security and Disability benefits. I had been cut off; I was over the monthly income for a couple of months. They would help me with the paperwork.

It was rush hour and the train was crowded. There were no seats. I had to stand up. Then it all happened suddenly; I started to feel a little lightheaded. I just wanted to get to Fountain House and get the paperwork over with. I thought I could make it there, but I didn’t. I passed out. The next thing I knew, I was on the train floor. I was glad it was early: The train was still clean. If it had been in the afternoon, it would have been dirty down there. When I woke up, I was disoriented. I was kind of embarrassed: Would the other passengers think I was a junkie? You see them on the train a lot. I grabbed the pole, but I was in a daze. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. Someone helped me up. People were all around me, asking if I was okay. 

I thought somebody would steal my stuff—my cell phone and my MetroCard. But they didn’t; they were really nice. I was very grateful to have my stuff. But it was more than that. The people on the train helped me out, and a woman offered me her seat. Some people offered me water, and someone gave me a mint to suck on. It made my mouth water and gave me a sugar rush. I needed that. One of the passengers got me a smoothie at the Fifty-Ninth Street station. 

I felt the goodness of the people in the city that day. They treated me nicely. They cared about me: a stranger, but their fellow man. It made me proud to be a New Yorker.

Somehow, I hurt my ankle when I fell. As I walked on it, the pain got worse. When I finally got to Fountain House, my ankle was really hurting me. They were shocked when I came in the door looking so bad. They said I looked awful. I felt awful. They gave me some ice for my ankle. Jane gave me some food and water. I saw the nurse. I got a Covid-19 test. I was negative. That was a relief: Passing out was bad enough; I didn’t want to quarantine or maybe even go to the hospital.

The staff at Fountain House have helped me a lot in the past. But they went above and beyond their duty that day. They were kind to me and showed a lot of attention and care. I was touched by it.

 I couldn’t work that weekend; my ankle was still hurting and swollen. My coworkers were concerned about me because I never miss work. The manager didn’t tell them why I was out from work, so Ma and Kendra called me. When I saw it was Ma, I was surprised. I wondered why she was calling. Before that, she always texted me. They thought I had Covid because so many people had been out with it. I told them about passing out on the train while fasting. Their concern turned to relief because I was not hurt that badly. It was not that serious. It was not Covid-19. We started to joke around. They said, “Don’t do that again.” 

I just laughed. I said, “Okay, I won’t. I promise.”

And they laughed too.

I was glad they called me. It made me feel great; they cared about me. We grew closer after that. We had only been co-workers, but after that, we became close friends.  

That was months ago, in July. But we are still good friends. We’re concerned about each other, and we still do things together. We go home together when we finish work, and sometimes we just walk around and talk. We go bowling. We relax and enjoy ourselves. Everyone has a good time. We have a lot of fun together.

Everyone showed deep concern when I was not well. I still get emotional when I remember it. You can always count on New Yorkers when you are down and out. I learned that this summer.