I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Virtually Carried Me to a Bathroom.

At the age of nineteenth year, my morning travel involved an crowded coach. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be completely full by the time I got on.

On one specific day, I started experiencing quite nauseous while the vehicle rocked around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer before the bus arrived at my stop, at which point I could rush hurriedly for the nearest public restroom to throw up.

As we neared the avenue close to the destination as it dawned on me I was unable to hold on. In an instant, it felt as if a veil came over me. Everything just went hazy and muffled; like someone had muted everything. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.

Luckily I was close to the driver on the bus, so I managed a couple of steps toward the driver and asked the driver to pull over, informing him that I was about to get ill. He promptly opened the entrance and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.

I was determined to avoid being sick in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I gathered myself and started trying to stumble toward the green space opposite the street, where I thought I’d at least be able to secretly conceal myself behind a bush to be sick. Yet I must have lost consciousness. I could feel my body but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, leading me to start dragging myself toward my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. There was a strong arm supporting me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this unknown man that I required to vomit. So he virtually carried me into a nearby building and put me in the ladies’ toilets. He wanted to know whether I required him to remain with me but I said no.

After a short while, I had recovered to the point of sitting down and from the other side of the door came his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t able to get up at that moment but I was able to express my gratitude and following a brief period was able to move my limbs. I made my way home and spent the next few days getting over what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I never glimpsed that man’s face – just his lower half and the big container for tools he was carrying – but he helped me, during a time when I was in my weakest state.

Frequently, society tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that our default setting leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish in other people.