Feeling So Sick I Was Unable to Walk When a Man Practically Supported Me to a Restroom.

During my 19 years old, my regular journey to work was on an express bus. It remained crowded and was consistently without any seats when I boarded.

One particular morning, I was feeling quite nauseous as the bus swayed around each corner. I continuously reassured myself to endure just a little longer before the bus got to where I needed to get off, so I could then make a mad dash for the nearest washroom to vomit.

We were coming down the avenue close to the stop when it dawned on me I wasn’t going to hold on. In an instant, it felt as if a veil came over me. My vision turned blank and silent; as if someone cut the sound. My mind raced, “I am about to pass out”.

Thankfully, I was positioned close to the driver on the bus, allowing me to take a few steps to ask the driver and asked the driver to stop, informing him I was going to vomit. The driver opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I picked myself up and endeavored to walk to the park on the other side, where I believed I’d at least be able to discreetly hide behind a bush to vomit. But then I likely lost consciousness. I was aware of my limbs, but walking was impossible or see properly, leading me to start inching my way to the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

In that instant, I was lifted up. I sensed an arm around my waist and heard a man say, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the kind passerby that I had to to vomit. So he virtually helped me walk over to a close-by structure and placed me into the female bathroom. He asked me whether I required him to stay with me but I said no.

Not long after, I regained my composure sufficiently to sit on the toilet and from the other side of the door came him ask, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I was incapable to rise just then but did manage to express my gratitude and following a brief period regained the function of my legs. I returned home and spent several days recovering from what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.

I never saw that man’s face – merely his legs and a large metal toolbox he had with him – but he helped me, when I was in my weakest state.

Many times, life has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His act was the type of kindness that undoes that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that our default setting leans toward compassion, something I love about humanity.