Feeling So Sick I Was Unable to Walk When a Man Essentially Lifted Me to a Bathroom.

Back when I was 19 years old, my morning travel was on an packed public transport. The vehicle was always full and invariably became standing room only once I stepped aboard.

On one specific day, I began feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle swayed around every turn. I repeatedly told myself to hold on just a little longer until the bus arrived at my destination, so I could then sprint quickly to the closest washroom to throw up.

The bus was approaching the avenue close to my stop and it dawned on me I wasn’t going to last. Suddenly, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. Everything just went blank and silent; like someone had turned off the audio. My mind raced, “I am about to pass out”.

Fortunately, I stood near the front of the bus, allowing me to take a couple of steps forward and asked the driver to stop, telling him that I was about to vomit. He opened the bus doors and I weakly exited out onto the street.

I was determined to avoid being sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and began attempting to walk toward the green space across the road, thinking I could I could at least discreetly hide among some shrubs to be sick. Yet I likely blacked out. I could feel my body but I couldn’t walk and my vision was blurry, so I began crawling towards the grassy area.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I was lifted up. I felt an arm around my waist and a man’s voice asked, “Everything alright, love?” I told this unknown man that I required to vomit. So he virtually carried me over to a nearby building and guided me into the female bathroom. He inquired whether I required him to remain with me but I said no.

A few minutes later, I had recovered enough to sit on the toilet when from beyond the stall I heard his voice asking, “Do you need anything, love? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to get up just then but I did succeed to thank him and after a few more minutes regained the function of my feet. I made my way home and then spent several days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never glimpsed that man’s face – just his lower half and the big container for tools he held – yet he rescued me, at a moment I was in my weakest state.

Many times, life can make you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that humanity’s innate tendency is to be kind, a quality I adore about humanity.