I Was So Ill Walking Was Impossible When a Man Virtually Carried Me to the Toilets.

At the age of 19 years old, my morning travel involved an express bus. It remained jammed and was consistently completely full by the time I got on.

One particular morning, I began feeling terribly ill as the bus lurched around each corner. I continuously reassured myself to persevere just a little longer so the bus could arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could make a mad dash to the closest washroom to vomit.

The bus was approaching the avenue close to the destination as I realised I was unable to hold on. In an instant, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. The world became blank and silent; like someone had turned off the audio. I thought, “I will lose consciousness”.

Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front of the bus, allowing me to take a couple of steps to ask the driver and requested that the driver to pull over, informing him that I was about to get ill. The driver opened the doors and I hurriedly stepped onto the sidewalk.

I was resolved to not get sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and endeavored to walk to the park across the road, thinking I could it would allow me to find some privacy behind a bush to vomit. Yet I apparently lost consciousness. I could feel my limbs, but walking was impossible or see clearly, so I started crawling towards my intended destination.

“Are you okay, dear?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. I felt someone holding me and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I had to to get to a bathroom. So he virtually helped me walk down into a close-by structure and put me into the female bathroom. He inquired if I wanted him to wait for me but I said no.

After a short while, I had recovered sufficiently to sit down and from outside the stall I heard his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I was incapable to stand up right away but I did succeed to express my gratitude and following a brief period was able to move my feet. I got myself home passing the next few days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw his features – just his lower half and the big metal toolbox he held – but he helped me, during a time when I was in my weakest state.

Frequently, society has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. What he did was the kind of action that undoes that emotional callousness. He demonstrated that our default setting leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.