I Was So Ill I Couldn’t Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

During my my late teens, my regular journey to work involved an packed public transport. The vehicle was always jammed and was consistently standing room only when I stepped aboard.

One particular morning, I started experiencing terribly ill as the bus swayed around the bends. I kept telling myself to persevere for a few more stops so the bus could reached where I needed to get off, and then I could sprint quickly to the closest public restroom to throw up.

As we neared the avenue close to the stop when I realised I wasn’t going to last. Suddenly, it seemed a curtain fell over me. Everything just went hazy and muffled; like someone had cut the sound. I said to myself, “I will lose consciousness”.

Thankfully, I was positioned near the front of the bus, so I managed a few steps forward and told the operator to open the doors, explaining to him that I was about to vomit. He opened the doors and I weakly exited on to the pavement.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I picked myself up and began attempting to walk to the park across the road, where I believed I’d at least be able to secretly conceal myself behind a bush to vomit. However I apparently lost consciousness. I was aware of my limbs, but walking was impossible or see clearly, leading me to start inching my way to the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I sensed someone holding me and heard a man say, “Everything alright, love?” I explained to this kind passerby that I required to be sick. Therefore, he almost supported my weight down into an adjacent building and placed me inside the women’s restroom. He wanted to know if I needed him to remain with me but I declined.

Not long after, I had recovered sufficiently to sit on the toilet and from the other side of the door came him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t able to get up just then but I did succeed to thank him and after a few more minutes was able to move my feet. I made my way home and spent the following days getting over what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I never saw that man’s face – merely his legs along with a sizable metal toolbox he held – but he helped me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Many times, life tends to make people defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that protective shell. He served as evidence that humanity’s innate tendency is to be kind, a quality I adore about humanity.