I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk When a Man Virtually Carried Me to a Restroom.

Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute meant taking an packed public transport. It remained jammed and invariably became without any seats when I boarded.

One particular morning, I started experiencing incredibly sick while the vehicle lurched around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to persevere for a few more stops so the bus could arrived at my destination, at which point I could rush hurriedly to the closest public toilet to throw up.

As we neared the avenue close to the stop when it dawned on me I wasn’t going to last. Suddenly, it seemed a fog descended upon me. Everything just went white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. I thought, “I am about to pass out”.

Luckily I was close to the driver of the bus, allowing me to take a few steps to ask the driver and requested that the driver to open the doors, telling him that I was about to be sick. He promptly opened the doors and I stumbled out out onto the street.

I was determined not to vomit in front of multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and started trying to make my way across to the park opposite the street, where I believed I could at least discreetly hide among some shrubs to throw up. However I apparently lost consciousness. I sensed my limbs, but I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I started crawling towards the grassy area.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, someone picked me up. There was an arm around my waist and a man’s voice asked, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the kind passerby that I needed to get to a bathroom. So he virtually carried me into an adjacent building and put me into the female bathroom. He asked me whether I required him to stay with me but I declined.

A few minutes later, I felt better to the point of sitting on the restroom floor when from beyond the door I heard him inquire, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I could not to rise right away but I was able to express my gratitude and following a brief period recovered the use of my legs. I got myself home passing several days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I did not see his features – just his lower half along with a sizable metal toolbox he had with him – but he helped me, when I was completely helpless.

Many times, life has a way of making you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that reverses that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that our default setting is to be kind, a quality I adore about humanity.