In Such Poor Health I Was Unable to Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Essentially Lifted Me to a Restroom.
At the age of 19 years old, my regular journey to work meant taking an crowded coach. The vehicle was always jammed and would always be completely full once I got on.
During a certain commute, I began feeling incredibly sick as the bus rocked around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure another few kilometres so the bus could reached where I needed to get off, so I could then make a mad dash for the nearest public restroom to vomit.
The bus was approaching the avenue close to the stop when it dawned on me I would not be to hold on. In an instant, it seemed a fog descended upon me. Everything just went blank and silent; as if someone cut the sound. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.
Thankfully, I was positioned close to the driver on the bus, so I managed a few steps to ask the driver and asked the driver to open the doors, explaining to him I needed to be sick. He promptly opened the bus doors and I stumbled out on to the pavement.
I was resolved to not get sick in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and started trying to stumble toward the green space opposite the street, where I thought I could at least discreetly hide among some shrubs to be sick. However I likely lost consciousness. I sensed my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I started inching my way to the park.
“You right, love?”
At that moment, someone picked me up. There was someone holding me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I explained to this mysterious stranger that I needed to vomit. Thus, he practically supported my weight over to a close-by structure and put me into the female bathroom. He wanted to know if I needed him to wait for me but I said no.
A few minutes later, I felt better enough to sit on the toilet when from beyond the door came him ask, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I could not to rise at that moment but did manage to thank him and following a brief period was able to move my feet. I made my way home passing the following days recovering from what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.
I never saw that man’s face – just his lower half and the big steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he saved me, at a moment I was in my weakest state.
Frequently, society can make you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that protective shell. He served as evidence that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish about my fellow humans.
