I Was So Ill Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Virtually Carried Me to a Bathroom.
During my nineteenth year, my regular journey to work meant taking an crowded coach. It remained crowded and was consistently without any seats once I boarded.
One particular morning, I was feeling terribly ill when the coach lurched around the bends. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer so the bus could arrived at my stop, and then I could sprint quickly for the nearest public toilet to be sick.
The bus was approaching the road leading to the destination as I realised I was unable to hold on. All of a sudden, it seemed a curtain fell over me. The world became hazy and muffled; as if someone muted everything. My mind raced, “I will lose consciousness”.
Thankfully, I was positioned close to the driver on the bus, so I took a couple of steps to ask the driver and told the operator to pull over, explaining to him I needed to be sick. The driver opened the doors and I weakly exited out onto the street.
I was determined to not get sick before multiple lanes of cars, so I gathered myself and endeavored to stumble to the park on the other side, where I thought I’d at least be able to discreetly hide among some shrubs to be sick. Yet I likely lost consciousness. I sensed my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I began inching my way to the grassy area.
“Everything alright, love?”
Right then, someone picked me up. I sensed an arm around my waist and a man’s voice asked, “You right, love?” I told this unknown man that I had to to vomit. Thus, he practically carried me over to an adjacent building and put me into the female bathroom. He inquired whether I required him to remain with me but I declined.
After a short while, I felt better enough to sit on the restroom floor and from the other side of the stall I heard him inquire, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I could not to stand up just then but I was able to thank him and following a brief period recovered the use of my limbs. I made my way home and spent the next few days healing from what turned out to be a nasty tummy bug.
I did not see that man’s face – merely his legs and the big steelwork tools container he had with him – but he saved me, when I was in my weakest state.
Many times, life can make you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His act was the type of kindness that melts away that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that our default setting leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish in other people.
