Feeling So Sick I Was Unable to Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Essentially Lifted Me to a Restroom.

At the age of nineteenth year, my regular journey to work involved an packed public transport. The vehicle was always jammed and invariably became standing room only once I boarded.

One particular morning, I began feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle rocked around each corner. I kept telling myself to hold on just a little longer so the bus could arrived at my stop, so I could then sprint quickly for the nearest washroom to vomit.

We were coming down the street towards my stop and I realised I would not be to last. All of a sudden, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; like someone had muted everything. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.

Luckily I was toward the front inside the vehicle, so I managed a few steps toward the driver and told the operator to open the doors, explaining to him I was going to be sick. The driver opened the bus doors and I stumbled out on to the pavement.

My intention was not to vomit in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and began attempting to make my way across to the park on the other side, where I believed I’d at least be able to discreetly hide behind a bush to throw up. But then I apparently fainted. I could feel my limbs, but I was unable to walk or see clearly, so I began dragging myself toward my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. There was someone holding me and heard a man say, “Everything alright, love?” I managed to tell the kind passerby that I required to get to a bathroom. So he virtually supported my weight into a close-by structure and put me in the ladies’ toilets. He asked me if I wanted him to stay with me but I said no.

Not long after, I had recovered enough to sit down when from beyond the stall I heard him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Do you need anything?” I could not to get up just then but did manage to express my gratitude and after a few more minutes was able to move my legs. I got myself home and then spent several days healing from what turned out to be a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw the stranger’s face – only his legs and the big steelwork tools container he held – but he helped me, at a moment I was at my most vulnerable.

Frequently, society tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that people’s natural inclination is towards kindness, something I love about humanity.