Local Domain

A kindly old man strolled up to me in the middle of the street one fine, balmy autumn day and lightly touched my arm. I was waiting at a bus stop so that I could get home after a long day at work. He looked up into my eyes and said, “Do you know the importance of diabetic treatment?” I stared, speechlessly, at him for a few minutes. That definitely had not been what I was expecting him to say. Slowly, I shook my head and he nodded. “You need to be tested,” he said. “I never was and now I’m dying from diabetes. I never thought it would happen to me.” Of course I had thought that you couldn’t get tested for diabetes and that you got it just from having poor health or it was passed onto you genetically. Honestly, I wasn’t completely sure and this old man was creeping me out anyway. When my bus finally came, I quickly scrambled up onto it and took a seat in the back. And the old man followed me on and all the way to the back. He sat down next to me and I spent the whole 20 minutes of my bus ride home, listening to him go on that diabetes had destroyed his life. Finally, I got off a few blocks before I should have and, sure enough, the old man followed me off the bus. I lost him by walking too quickly, turned a corner, and ran. When I got home, I locked and bolted all the doors. I just wanted to be sure.