Feeling So Sick Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Virtually Carried Me to the Toilets.
During my my late teens, my regular journey to work was on an express bus. It remained full and was consistently standing room only once I boarded.
On one specific day, I began feeling quite nauseous as the bus rocked around every turn. I repeatedly told myself to endure just a little longer before the bus got to my destination, and then I could make a mad dash for the nearest public restroom to throw up.
As we neared the street towards the stop when I realised I was unable to last. In an instant, it seemed a curtain fell over me. The world became blank and silent; similar to when one muted everything. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.
Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front of the bus, so I managed several 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 doors and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.
My intention was to not get sick in front of a busy multi-lane road, so I gathered myself and began attempting to walk across to the park opposite the street, where I believed it would allow me to secretly conceal myself behind a bush to throw up. But then I likely blacked out. I was aware of my physical self, yet I was unable to walk and my vision was blurry, so I began crawling towards the grassy area.
“You right, love?”
In that instant, I was lifted up. I felt a strong arm supporting me and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I needed to get to a bathroom. Therefore, he almost supported my weight over to a nearby building and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He asked me whether I required him to wait for me but I refused.
A few minutes later, I had recovered sufficiently to sit down when from beyond the door came him inquire, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to rise right away but I was able to thank him and following a brief period was able to move my feet. I made my way home and then spent the following days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.
I never saw that man’s face – just his lower half along with a sizable metal toolbox he had with him – yet he rescued me, at a moment I was at my most vulnerable.
Many times, life tends to make people guarded, hostile, and combative. What he did was the kind of action that reverses that emotional callousness. He was proof that our default setting leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about my fellow humans.