In Such Poor Health I Was Unable to Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Essentially Lifted Me to a Bathroom.
At the age of nineteenth year, my morning travel involved an packed public transport. It was perpetually full and would always be standing room only when I boarded.
During a certain commute, I began feeling incredibly sick as the bus rocked around the bends. I repeatedly told myself to persevere another few kilometres so the bus could arrived at my stop, at which point I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public restroom to throw up.
We were coming down the street towards the stop when I realised I would not be to make it. All of a sudden, it felt as if a veil came over me. My vision turned white and really quiet; like someone had cut the sound. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.
Thankfully, I was positioned near the front on the bus, so I took several steps to ask the driver and asked the driver to stop, telling him I needed to vomit. The driver opened the doors and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.
My intention was to avoid being sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and started trying to walk to the park across the road, where I thought it would allow me to secretly conceal myself behind a bush to throw up. However I apparently fainted. I sensed my limbs, but I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I began inching my way to the grassy area.
“You right, love?”
In that instant, I was lifted up. I sensed an arm around my waist and a stranger inquired, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this kind passerby that I needed to vomit. Therefore, he almost carried me over to a close-by structure and placed me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me whether I required him to stay with me but I said no.
Not long after, I felt better sufficiently to sit on the toilet when from beyond the door came him ask, “Do you need anything, love? Do you need anything?” I was incapable to get up right away but I did succeed to say thank you and after a few more minutes was able to move my legs. I returned home and then spent the next few days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.
I did not see that man’s face – merely his legs along with a sizable metal toolbox he held – yet he rescued me, at a moment I was completely helpless.
Often this world has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He was proof that humanity’s innate tendency leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.
