I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was nineteenth year, my morning travel was on an packed public transport. It remained crowded and invariably became standing room only by the time I boarded.

One particular morning, I was feeling quite nauseous when the coach rocked around the bends. I continuously reassured myself to endure just a little longer until the bus reached where I needed to get off, at which point I could rush hurriedly for the nearest washroom to throw up.

The bus was approaching the street towards the stop when I understood I was unable to make it. Suddenly, it seemed a curtain fell over me. Everything just went blank and silent; as if someone cut the sound. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.

Luckily I was near the front of the bus, so I managed several steps to ask the driver and told the operator to pull over, informing him that I was about to be sick. He opened the entrance and I weakly exited out onto the street.

My intention was to avoid being sick before a busy multi-lane road, so I gathered myself and started trying to stumble across to the park across the road, where I believed I’d at least be able to discreetly hide near some foliage to vomit. Yet I must have blacked out. I sensed my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I started dragging myself toward the park.

“Are you okay, dear?”

In that instant, I was lifted up. There was a strong arm supporting me and heard a man say, “Everything alright, love?” I explained to this kind passerby that I had to to vomit. Therefore, he almost carried me into a close-by structure and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He asked me if I wanted him to remain with me but I declined.

A few minutes later, I regained my composure sufficiently to sit on the toilet when from beyond the door came him inquire, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I wasn’t able to rise at that moment but I was able to say thank you and after a few more minutes regained the function of my legs. I made my way home passing the next few days getting over what was later diagnosed as a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I never glimpsed the stranger’s face – just his lower half and a large container for tools he held – but he helped me, when I was in my weakest state.

Many times, life has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He was proof that humanity’s innate tendency is to be kind, something I love about humanity.