May or may not have saved a life

After a great many pleasantly unsleeping hours and joys, I decide to walk home across a long stretch of town. Two blocks from home. A man is standing in my path and I cross the street to avoid him.

MAN: Hey! Hey! HEY!
JON: (ignore)
M: HEY! Don't you see me?
J: (I glance as I continue forward.)
M: I'm bloody. Do you see? (The man is shirtless. Blood streams down from his face, I think, from a wound above his left eye. The blood runs down his chest, unsmeared, in rivulets that blend together around his waistband. He is smoking a cigarette.)
J: Do... you need a doctor?
M: No, I'm strong.
J: You are.
M: I'm too strong!
J: I know.
M: ...I'm strong.

I cross the street. I can see behind me at in front of me at once, minding him while walking forward and home. He takes a long drag of his cigarette. I call a doctor.