Traumatized

     This is a true story of what occurred to my hair stylist.  I helped him compose this synopsis for his GoFundMe page.

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     During September 2022, I left a supermarket on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. It was 8pm, but there was still daylight, so I decided to cross Central Park. As I entered the park, I passed two policemen by their car. I walked on a pedestrian path, and I saw cyclists, roller-skaters and dog-walkers. I wasn’t deep into the park when two guys approached. They wore hooded sweatshirts and scarves so I couldn’t see their faces. One lunged forward and punched me. I fell, and my nose was bleeding. I was being mugged! They aimed flashlight into my face, so you couldn’t see. They bent and punched me in the face again and again. I remembered the police car and ran to them. Halfway there, the thugs caught me. As I was thrown to the ground, I saw the police officers: idle and chatting. One thief repeatedly kicked me in the head.

     Blood gushed everywhere. At the same time, the other everything from my pockets and ripped open my jacket and shirt. They stole my cash, wallet, watch, and cellphone. In background, I saw three bystanders watching everything: one recorded the attack on his cellphone. But they didn’t do anything. After the thieves ran away, a woman and a man got closer. Desperately, I asked them to help me to get to the police car. They helped, but the police actually looked afraid to help me—covered in my own blood. After two hours (one hour sitting in the ambulance), I was finally brought to a hospital. Eyes swollen shut. Ears, nose, and knee bleeding. Fingers broken on the right hand.

     The hospital was horrible: the entire overnight experience was useless. It didn’t seem busy, and I watched the staff gossip about their vacations. They didn’t assist me. Nobody offered me a seat; they made me stand for three hours. Then, I took a chair from an empty room. I wasn’t given attention until 7am. Without a doctor inspection, a nurse took me for X-rays but only scanned parts of my head. I insisted that she do X-rays on my hand. Next, she lied that the images took a long time to materialize. I asked a lab technician who told me that the images were instant. The nurse then claimed to need X-rays—one finger at a time. She didn’t give me water, and despite my body shaking, she didn’t give me a blanket… until I argued for them.

     Making it worse, a policeman stayed near me during the night, yet he did nothing to advocate for me.  Later the morning, I was given a Release Letter, and the hospital staff told me to leave. They said that they couldn’t do anything further, and they recommended plastic surgery. I refused to leave until I got a tetanus shot. At midday, the policeman took me to a police station, but I physically wasn’t able to identify any suspects. After I got home, I saw unauthorized charges on my credit cards because the thieves immediately hired an Uber to flee the scene of their crime, and they bought a luxurious dinner for themselves and went shopping. After reporting my Identity Theft and the fraudulent transactions, my accounts were frozen. Thankfully, the robbers tried using one of my stolen cards to buy lunch, and that restaurant saw the Fraud Alert and called the police who arrested them.

     For weeks, I could not sleep well due to nasal breathing problems when I laid down. Before my attack, I had a flight booked to my homeland in Europe to visit my family, and I used the trip for a medical consultation. Due to the urgency of my injuries, I was immediately given access to a doctor. Within the same day, I was diagnosed by doctors, surgeons, and specialists for trauma and reconstructive operations. During that time, they gave me an MRI and scanned my entire body. I received a “corrective medical operation” to reset my nose. Every doctor told me that I would’ve healed if I had received proper treatment in New York. If the NY doctors had merely put cotton inside my nose, it would’ve maintained airflow, absorbed blood, and helped my nasal passages reset. However, now, a surgery is mandatory. After a month flashbacks of post-traumatic stress and being afraid to be outside at night, I accepted suggestions to begin paying for therapy. It is unhealthy to remain locked indoors at home.

     These are the reasons for my page. I gratefully appreciate any helpful giving, so that I may heal—physically and psychologically. I wish the best for you, and that you stay safe. Thank you sincerely.