Woman at the Bus Stop

            “Oh no, I’m bleeding again.” I looked over at the woman sitting next to me at the bus stop, and she was, in fact, bleeding.  Bright red was flowering at her shoulder, dotting her white blouse in little flowerlets.  “You wouldn’t happen to have a tissue, would you?”  she asked me.  I made a visible effort to rummage around in my purse, knowing I didn’t have anything, but not wanting to appear rude.  “That’s ok,” she sighed, at my obvious futility. 

            “Are you ok?’  I asked her finally, seeing I was not going to get out of acting concerned without coming off as an ass.

 “It would be ok, except I have a job interview this morning. “
 “Are you hurt?”
 The woman sighed. “Well, I opened my heart this morning, a few stops back, and

now I can’t seem to get it closed again.”
                 "Excuse me?"  I asked.
                 "Yeah, what a pain, right?  I went to the doctor, because my heart just keeps bleeding all over the place.  He said he could close it up permanently, and many people do, because of the mess you know, but that I may not be able to have children then.  Some people can, but in my case...." and  she shook her head no.  "I tried to keep it from opening again, but as soon as I got home and fed my dog, it just started pouring out.  The doctor also said I might have to get rid of my dog."
                  "But.... why?"
                  "Why the dog?"
                  "No, why are you always bleeding?"  I watched as the flowerlets became steady streams racing down through the starchy, white fabric.
                   "Oh, it's this condition I have, with my heart.  It just.... opens sometimes.  And then I can't get it closed again.  Maybe we could stitch it up real quick?  If you helped?  I really want this job."
                     "You want me to sew?  Your skin?" I asked in horror.
                     "Or maybe superglue!  That's what they used in the Civil War, didn't they?  Or rather, they turned the stuff they used to stick the wounds back together into superglue.  Or something like that. I really should start carrying some around with me."
                     "So you WANT to close it up?"  I asked, wishing I had chosen a different bus route this morning.
                     "Well not really, because I love my dog, and I might want to have children some day.  But it would be less messy,  wouldn't it?  And would probably hurt less.  The doctor told me that most people elect to get theirs closed up so they can focus on strength training or fitness.... like, you can't very well lift weights or go running or anything with an open heart.  But I don't know, the heart is a muscle too, so I'm not sure I quite agree with that.  It DOES hurt a bit, though.  Every time I accidentally leave it open."
                      I made a show to look down the street for my bus, clicking my tongue in impatience.         
                      "Perhaps if I just wear my purse over my shoulder," the woman said.  I sighed loudly.
                      "Here," I said, taking off my shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders.  "It goes with your outfit better anyway."   
                        "Oh no, I couldn't possibly!"  she said, and the blood began to soak through her sleeve. 
                        "Please," I said.  "I'm just going to the grocery store," a lie, "and you have a job interview.  But really, you should probably get that heart thing looked at again.  I don't think your doctor knew what he was talking about."
                         She smiled.  "I will.  And in the meantime I might get it to close back up again.  At least for a little while."