I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Essentially Lifted Me to the Toilets.

At the age of my late teens, my morning travel involved an express bus. It was perpetually full and invariably became without any seats when I stepped aboard.

During a certain commute, I was feeling terribly ill while the vehicle rocked around each corner. I kept telling myself to endure for a few more stops until the bus arrived at my destination, at which point I could sprint quickly for the nearest public restroom to vomit.

The bus was approaching the street towards the destination as it dawned on me I was unable to last. All of a sudden, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. The world became white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. I said to myself, “I will lose consciousness”.

Luckily I was toward the front inside the vehicle, allowing me to take a few steps to ask the driver and told the operator to open the doors, telling him I was going to vomit. He opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in front of multiple lanes of cars, so I forced myself up and started trying to make my way to the park across the road, where I believed it would allow me to find some privacy behind a bush to be sick. But then I must have blacked out. I could feel my limbs, but I was unable to walk and my vision was blurry, leading me to start crawling towards the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I felt an arm around my waist and a stranger inquired, “You right, love?” I explained to this unknown man that I needed to be sick. Thus, he practically supported my weight into an adjacent building and placed me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me if I wanted him to stay with me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I felt better sufficiently to sit down and from outside the door came his voice asking, “Do you need anything, love? Do you need anything?” I could not to stand up right away but did manage to thank him and following a brief period was able to move my legs. I made my way home and then spent the next few days getting over what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never glimpsed that man’s face – merely his legs and the big container for tools he was carrying – but he helped me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that emotional callousness. He was proof that our default setting is to be kind, a trait I cherish about humanity.