I was receiving treatment in the emergency department of a private hospital when I heard a young woman crying out. She said she was exhausted, could not feel her legs, and felt her heart racing and her chest tightening. Her mother was beside her. I share this encounter not to judge the people involved, but because it left me thinking about how we respond when someone needs help.
The doctor asked what had happened. At first, the mother said she did not know. She then explained that her daughter had been struggling emotionally after being turned down by a university, and had taken medication several hours earlier. The details of how are not what matters here. What matters is recognising a possible medical emergency and seeking care promptly.
From what I heard, the doctor described it as a suicide attempt. He spoke about notifying the police or going to the poison-treatment centre in Dammam, and said that the time elapsed meant this was beyond straightforward treatment. This is my account of a conversation I overheard—not medical guidance or a statement of the procedures that apply to every case.
The mother objected that Dammam was too far away and told her daughter to endure it. Insurance and payment then became an issue. As I understood the conversation, the hospital's insurance arrangements did not cover the care, and the mother declined to pay and decided to leave without treatment. I do not know what happened next, whether they actually left, or whether the young woman later received help. I sincerely hope she is well.
University rejection can look like a temporary setback from the outside. To the person experiencing it, it may feel overwhelming. We cannot know everything this young woman was carrying, and we should not reduce her distress to a single event. A disappointing result does not diminish anyone's worth. Emotional pain deserves attention, not ridicule or blame.
In our families, support can begin with a simple sentence: “We are here with you. Let us get help.” We do not need perfect answers to listen without scolding, comparing, or dismissing someone’s feelings. Sometimes, making it safe to speak is the most important thing we can do. يا جماعة الخير—“good people,” as we warmly address one another back home—our loved ones need to know that asking for support is welcome.
Suspected poisoning requires urgent medical attention. Distance and worries about payment are real pressures, but they must not delay seeking emergency help. Explain those obstacles to the medical team and ask for direction; do not wait for symptoms to disappear on their own. Assessment and treatment belong with qualified professionals.
When I first told this story, I asked what people thought of everyone's behaviour. I would rather leave us with a more useful question: what would we do to help? Listen, offer support, and seek care. That is the awareness I hope this story brings.
If you or someone near you is going through distress, do not stay silent. In Saudi Arabia, call 937 (Ministry of Health), or 997 / 911 in an emergency.

