I Was So Ill Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was 19 years old, my morning travel involved an express bus. It remained full and invariably became standing room only by the time I boarded.

On one specific day, I was feeling terribly ill as the bus lurched around the bends. I repeatedly told myself to hold on another few kilometres so the bus could arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public toilet to be sick.

As we neared the road leading to my stop and I understood I would not be to hold on. In an instant, it seemed a fog descended upon me. My vision turned blank and silent; like someone had cut the sound. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Luckily I was close to the driver of the bus, allowing me to take several steps to ask the driver and requested that the driver to open the doors, telling him I needed to get ill. He promptly opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped onto the sidewalk.

My intention was to avoid being sick in front of a busy multi-lane road, so I picked myself up and endeavored to walk toward the green space opposite the street, where I thought it would allow me to discreetly hide near some foliage to be sick. However I must have lost consciousness. I could feel my physical self, yet I was unable to walk or see clearly, leading me to start dragging myself toward the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. I felt an arm around my waist and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the kind passerby that I needed to vomit. Thus, he practically helped me walk over to a close-by structure and guided me inside the women’s restroom. He inquired if I wanted him to stay with me but I refused.

After a short while, I regained my composure to the point of sitting on the toilet when from beyond the door I heard him inquire, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I could not to get up at that moment but I was able to say thank you and following a brief period was able to move my legs. I got myself home and then spent several days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I did not see that man’s face – only his legs along with a sizable steelwork tools container he held – but he saved me, at a moment I was in my weakest state.

Often this world can make you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that our default setting is to be kind, a quality I adore about humanity.