In Such Poor Health I Couldn’t Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Essentially Lifted Me to a Bathroom.
At the age of 19 years old, my regular journey to work meant taking an express bus. The vehicle was always full and invariably became standing room only once I stepped aboard.
During a certain commute, I was feeling terribly ill when the coach lurched around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer so the bus could got to my destination, at which point I could sprint quickly for the nearest public restroom to throw up.
As we neared the avenue close to my stop and I realised I wasn’t going to make it. Suddenly, it seemed a curtain fell over me. My vision turned white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. I said to myself, “I will lose consciousness”.
Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front of the bus, so I managed several steps forward and asked the driver to pull over, telling him I was going to vomit. He promptly opened the doors and I hurriedly stepped onto the sidewalk.
My intention was to not get sick in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and started trying to walk across to the park opposite the street, thinking I could it would allow me to find some privacy near some foliage to be sick. Yet I likely blacked out. I sensed my body but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, so I began crawling towards the park.
“Everything alright, love?”
At that moment, I got scooped up. I sensed an arm around my waist and a stranger inquired, “Are you okay, dear?” I explained to this kind passerby that I needed to get to a bathroom. Thus, he practically helped me walk down into an adjacent building and put me inside the women’s restroom. He inquired if I wanted him to wait for me but I said no.
Not long after, I regained my composure enough to sit on the restroom floor when from beyond the stall I heard him ask, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I wasn’t able to get up right away but did manage to express my gratitude and after a few more minutes was able to move my legs. I got myself home passing several days recovering from what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.
I did not see his features – merely his legs and a large container for tools he held – yet he rescued me, during a time when I was in my weakest state.
Many times, life tends to make people defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that protective shell. He demonstrated that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish in other people.
