I Was So Ill Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Virtually Carried Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was my late teens, my morning travel involved an express bus. The vehicle was always crowded and invariably became without any seats when I got on.

During a certain commute, I started experiencing quite nauseous as the bus rocked around every turn. I continuously reassured myself to hold on for a few more stops until the bus arrived at my stop, at which point I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public restroom to throw up.

As we neared the avenue close to the stop when it dawned on me I was unable to hold on. All of a sudden, it felt as if a curtain fell over me. Everything just went hazy and muffled; like someone had cut the sound. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood toward the front on the bus, allowing me to take a few steps to ask the driver and told the operator to open the doors, informing him I was going to be sick. The driver opened the doors and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and started trying to stumble across to the park opposite the street, where I thought it would allow me to discreetly hide among some shrubs to vomit. Yet I apparently blacked out. I was aware of my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see clearly, so I began dragging myself toward the park.

“Are you okay, dear?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. I felt an arm around my waist and a man’s voice asked, “Everything alright, love?” I explained to this unknown man that I required to get to a bathroom. So he virtually supported my weight down into an adjacent building and guided me into the female bathroom. He asked me whether I required him to wait for me but I said no.

Not long after, I regained my composure to the point of sitting on the restroom floor when from beyond the door came him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Can I get you something?” I could not to rise just then but I was able to thank him and shortly thereafter was able to move my legs. I made my way home passing the next few days getting over what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.

I never glimpsed the stranger’s face – only his legs and the big steelwork tools container he had with him – but he saved me, when I was at my most vulnerable.

Many times, life tends to make people self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that protective shell. He was proof that humanity’s innate tendency leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish about humanity.