In Such Poor Health Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to a Restroom.
At the age of 19 years old, my daily commute was on an express bus. The vehicle was always jammed and invariably became standing room only once I got on.
On one specific day, I was feeling terribly ill as the bus rocked around the bends. I kept telling myself to persevere for a few more stops until the bus reached my destination, so I could then sprint quickly for the nearest public toilet to vomit.
We were coming down the road leading to the destination as I understood I would not be to make it. All of a sudden, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. The world became hazy and muffled; as if someone turned off the audio. My mind raced, “I am about to pass out”.
Fortunately, I stood near the front on the bus, allowing me to take a few steps toward the driver and told the operator to stop, telling him I needed to get ill. He promptly opened the bus doors and I weakly exited on to the pavement.
My intention was not to vomit before multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and started trying to make my way to the park across the road, thinking I could I could at least find some privacy among some shrubs to vomit. However I likely lost consciousness. I could feel my body but I was unable to walk and my vision was blurry, so I started inching my way to my intended destination.
“You right, love?”
In that instant, someone picked me up. I sensed someone holding me and heard a man say, “Everything alright, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I required to be sick. Thus, he practically supported my weight into an adjacent building and placed me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me if I needed him to wait for me but I refused.
Not long after, I had recovered to the point of sitting on the toilet and from outside the door came his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I wasn’t able to rise just then but did manage to say thank you and following a brief period regained the function of my legs. I made my way home passing the next few days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.
I never saw that man’s face – only his legs and a large container for tools he was carrying – yet he rescued me, when I was at my most vulnerable.
Often this world has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. His act was the type of kindness that reverses that hardening of the heart. He served as evidence that humanity’s innate tendency leans toward compassion, something I love about my fellow humans.