I Was So Ill Walking Was Impossible As a Stranger Essentially Lifted Me to a Bathroom.
During my nineteenth year, my morning travel involved an crowded coach. It remained crowded and invariably became without any seats by the time I got on.
On one specific day, I began feeling incredibly sick when the coach rocked around the bends. I repeatedly told myself to endure another few kilometres before the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, and then I could rush hurriedly for the nearest public restroom to be sick.
We were coming down the street towards my stop and I understood I was unable to hold on. All of a sudden, it felt as if a curtain fell over me. Everything just went blank and silent; similar to when one cut the sound. My mind raced, “I’m going to faint”.
Fortunately, I stood close to the driver inside the vehicle, so I took several steps forward and told the operator to stop, explaining to him that I was about to be sick. The driver opened the entrance and I stumbled out out onto the street.
I was resolved to avoid being sick in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I forced myself up and endeavored to make my way toward the green space on the other side, where I believed it would allow me to find some privacy behind a bush to vomit. Yet I apparently lost consciousness. I could feel my body but I couldn’t walk or see properly, leading me to start inching my way to the park.
“Everything alright, love?”
Right then, I got scooped up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I needed to be sick. Thus, he practically carried me into a close-by structure and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He wanted to know if I needed him to remain with me but I said no.
A few minutes later, I regained my composure sufficiently to sit on the restroom floor and from outside the door came him ask, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I could not to rise just then but I was able to thank him and shortly thereafter regained the function of my legs. I made my way home passing several days healing from which was a nasty tummy bug.
I never glimpsed that man’s face – merely his legs and the big steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was at my most vulnerable.
Many times, life has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He demonstrated that our default setting is towards kindness, something I love about humanity.
