I Was So Ill I Couldn’t Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.
At the age of 19 years old, my daily commute was on an packed public transport. It remained crowded and was consistently standing room only once I boarded.
On one specific day, I began feeling quite nauseous when the coach swayed around each corner. I kept telling myself to persevere another few kilometres so the bus could arrived at my destination, so I could then make a mad dash for the nearest public toilet to vomit.
We were coming down the street towards my stop and I understood I would not be to hold on. All of a sudden, it seemed a curtain fell over me. The world became white and really quiet; like someone had turned off the audio. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.
Thankfully, I was positioned near the front on the bus, so I took a couple of steps toward the driver and requested that the driver to stop, informing him I was going to get ill. He opened the entrance and I weakly exited out onto the street.
I was resolved to not get sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and began attempting to make my way toward the green space across the road, where I thought it would allow me to discreetly hide among some shrubs to throw up. But then I likely blacked out. I could feel my limbs, but I was unable to walk or see clearly, leading me to start inching my way to the grassy area.
“You right, love?”
Right then, I was lifted up. There was an arm around my waist and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I explained to this kind passerby that I had to to get to a bathroom. So he virtually carried me into a close-by structure and guided me into the female bathroom. He asked me whether I required him to remain with me but I refused.
Not long after, I felt better sufficiently to sit on the restroom floor when from beyond the door came his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I could not to rise right away but I did succeed to say thank you and shortly thereafter recovered the use of my feet. I returned home and spent the following days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a horrible case of gastroenteritis.
I did not see his features – merely his legs and the big container for tools he held – yet he rescued me, 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 reverses that protective shell. He was proof that our default setting is to be kind, something I love about my fellow humans.
