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

During my nineteenth year, my regular journey to work was on an express bus. It was perpetually jammed and would always be completely full by the time I got on.

On one specific day, I was feeling incredibly sick as the bus lurched around each corner. I continuously reassured myself to endure for a few more stops so the bus could got to my stop, so I could then sprint quickly for the nearest public restroom to be sick.

We were coming down the avenue close to the destination as I realised I was unable to make it. All of a sudden, it seemed a curtain fell over me. My vision turned blank and silent; as if someone cut the sound. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood near the front inside the vehicle, so I took several steps forward and told the operator to open the doors, explaining to him I needed to get ill. The driver opened the bus doors and I stumbled out out onto the street.

My intention was not to vomit in front of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and endeavored to make my way across to the park across the road, where I thought I’d at least be able to secretly conceal myself near some foliage to be sick. Yet I likely lost consciousness. I was aware of my body but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, so I started inching my way to my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, I got scooped up. I sensed an arm around my waist and a man’s voice asked, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I had to to vomit. Thus, he practically carried me into an adjacent building and guided me into the female bathroom. He asked me if I needed him to stay with me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I regained my composure to the point of sitting down and from the other side of the door came his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Can I get you something?” I was incapable to stand up right away but did manage to thank him and following a brief period regained the function of my limbs. I made my way home and then spent the following days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never glimpsed that man’s face – just his lower half and the big steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he helped me, at a moment I was completely helpless.

Often this world has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. His act was the type of kindness that reverses that protective shell. He served as evidence that our default setting leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.