Sickness in Motion

(Disclaimer: This story is slightly gross, so don't read it if you are eating or thinking about eating in the near future.)

Yesterday, I wasn't feeling too well, but I won't give up a precious day's pay, so I went to work anyway. I had to go to Naoestu, which is my farthest away school, an hour and a half train ride. I normally enjoy this train ride, because I can sit back and relax, listen to music, maybe play DS, or read. On this particular day, however, I started to feel a bit queasy. Usually, I sit in the seats that face the direction the train is going in, but none of these were available, so I sat in a seat that puts you in a position where you are moving sideways. My state of nausea, unfamiliar traveling position, and the fact that the heated seat felt especially heated combined disastrously and caused me to vomit right there on the train. At the time, there was still a good long hour until I reached my destination. Thinking it would be helpful or perhaps not thinking at all, I caught most of the sick in my hands. Then, I was left with two handfuls of puke and no idea what to do with it. I looked around at my fellow passengers, but they all looked away if I caught their eye. I hoped that someone would open one of the doors near me at the next stop, but no one around me got on or off the train.

I just stared at my hands wondering how I could possibly make this a better situation. Some high school girls came over and stood next to me for about 30 seconds before realizing I was holding vomit. They quickly shrieked and ran away. Finally, three stops after the unfortunate incident, someone nearby got off and thankfully left the door open. I poured my puked out the train door onto the tracks. I figured I'd be able to clean myself up once I got rid of the excess vomit, but it didn't occur to me that my hands would still have a pukey film on them. I went back to staring at my hands wondering what to do next. I didn't have much time to think though. 

About 2 seconds after I sat back down, all of my fellow passengers, who had ignored me and pretended nothing was wrong for 3 whole stops, surrounded me. About 5 packs of tissue were shoved in my face, a handful of wet wipes were given to me, and an older lady started cleaning off my face with a hand towel. Someone produced two plastic bags: one for all of the used tissues and wet wipes and another for my sweater and my scarf, which would be useless for the rest of day, leaving me slightly colder than I would have liked.  We reached a major stop shortly after this and most of the people who ended up helping me got off there. The old woman asked if I was getting off at Kashiwazaki and I said, 'No, Naoestu." She frowned at me and I could tell she wanted to offer some words of encouragement, but she didn't think I'd understand. She took the bag of trash off with her and said, "Ganbatte," or "Good luck./You can do it."