Feeling So Sick I Couldn’t Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.
During my 19 years old, my daily commute meant taking an express bus. It was perpetually full and was consistently completely full by the time I boarded.
On one specific day, I started experiencing quite nauseous while the vehicle lurched around every turn. I repeatedly told myself to hold on for a few more stops before the bus got to my stop, at which point I could make a mad dash toward the most convenient washroom to be sick.
As we neared the road leading to the destination as I realised I would not be to make it. In an instant, it was like a fog descended upon me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; like someone had turned off the audio. I said to myself, “I will lose consciousness”.
Fortunately, I stood near the front inside the vehicle, so I managed several steps to ask the driver and asked the driver to pull over, telling him I needed to vomit. The driver opened the entrance and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.
My intention was to avoid being sick in front of multiple lanes of cars, so I forced myself up and endeavored to stumble toward the green space opposite the street, thinking I could I’d at least be able to find some privacy among some shrubs to be sick. However I likely lost consciousness. I could feel my limbs, but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, so I began inching my way to the park.
“Everything alright, love?”
At that moment, someone picked me up. There was a strong arm supporting me and heard a man say, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I had to to be sick. So he virtually helped me walk over to a nearby building and put me in the ladies’ toilets. He inquired if I needed him to remain with me but I said no.
A few minutes later, I had recovered sufficiently to sit down when from beyond the door came his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I wasn’t able to get up right away but did manage to express my gratitude and after a few more minutes recovered the use of my legs. I returned home passing the next few days getting over what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.
I never saw that man’s face – only his legs along with a sizable container for tools he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was at my most vulnerable.
Often this world has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that protective shell. He was proof that people’s natural inclination is towards kindness, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.
