A Pacemaker
“Stop using the
smartphone. I’m scared,” the man next to me said.
He and I were
sitting on a subway priority seat for the aged, pregnant, or disabled people.
He was around 40 years old, and was a large stout-looking man.
“I’m sorry,” I
said to him.
When I had sat
on it a moment before, I had noticed that he was placing his right palm on his
chest. I wondered if he had a weak heart, but apparently he had a pace-maker implanted.
When the subway
stopped at the next station, a woman stood in front of him, using a smartphone.
My neighbor immediately told her not to use it. She bowed to him apologetically
and stopped using it. Whenever the train stopped and one or two passengers
stood near him using smartphones, he said to them, “Don’t use that around me.” Once
when he asked a young man to stop using the gadget, he ignored his request and
continued using it. So my neighbor stood up and told him to stop doing so again.
The young man turned around. He was listening to the i-phone music with
earphones. He took off one of them from his ear, comprehended his request and
stopped using the phone.
I sympathized
with him, because I myself have irregular heartbeat and take a pill every
morning.
Worrying about
the malfunction of his pacemaker whenever he takes trains or buses may be bad
for his heart, I am afraid.
I have resolved
that I would not use my smartphone near priority seats.
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