Feeling So Sick I Couldn’t Walk When a Man Essentially Lifted Me to a Restroom.
At the age of nineteenth year, my daily commute involved an express bus. It was perpetually jammed and invariably became standing room only once I boarded.
On one specific day, I began feeling quite nauseous when the coach swayed around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to endure for a few more stops before the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public restroom to throw up.
We were coming down the avenue close to the destination as I understood I would not be to hold on. Suddenly, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. My vision turned white and really quiet; similar to when one muted everything. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.
Luckily I was near the front of the bus, allowing me to take several steps forward and requested that the driver to stop, telling him I was going to get ill. The driver opened the doors and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.
I was resolved to avoid being sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and began attempting to make my way across to the park opposite the street, thinking I could it would allow me to secretly conceal myself near some foliage to throw up. Yet I apparently fainted. I was aware of my limbs, but walking was impossible or see properly, leading me to start crawling towards the park.
“Everything alright, love?”
In that instant, someone picked me up. I felt a strong arm supporting me and a stranger inquired, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I required to vomit. So he virtually carried me down into a nearby building and guided me into the female bathroom. He wanted to know whether I required him to remain with me but I refused.
After a short while, I felt better to the point of sitting on the toilet and from outside the door came his voice asking, “Do you need anything, love? Do you need anything?” I could not to get up right away but did manage to express my gratitude and after a few more minutes regained the function of my legs. I returned home and then spent the following days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.
I never saw his features – only his legs and the big steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was in my weakest state.
Often this world can make you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His act was the type of kindness that melts away that emotional callousness. He was proof that people’s natural inclination is towards kindness, something I love about humanity.
