Feeling So Sick I Was Unable to Walk As a Stranger Essentially Lifted Me to a Restroom.

At the age of 19 years old, my morning travel meant taking an packed public transport. The vehicle was always full and invariably became standing room only once I boarded.

One particular morning, I was feeling terribly ill when the coach rocked around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to endure another few kilometres before the bus arrived at my stop, at which point I could rush hurriedly to the closest washroom to be sick.

As we neared the street towards the stop when I understood I was unable to hold on. In an instant, it seemed a veil came over me. Everything just went blank and silent; like someone had muted everything. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Luckily I was close to the driver on the bus, allowing me to take a couple of steps toward the driver and told the operator to stop, telling him that I was about to get ill. The driver opened the doors and I weakly exited on to the pavement.

My intention was not to vomit in front of a busy multi-lane road, so I gathered myself and endeavored to stumble toward the green space on the other side, where I believed I could at least secretly conceal myself near some foliage to vomit. However I apparently blacked out. I sensed my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, leading me to start crawling towards my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, someone picked me up. I felt someone holding me and heard a man say, “Are you okay, dear?” I explained to this kind passerby that I had to to vomit. Therefore, he almost supported my weight down into a nearby building and put me in the ladies’ toilets. He inquired whether I required him to stay with me but I declined.

After a short while, I felt better sufficiently to sit down when from beyond the door I heard him ask, “Do you need anything, love? Can I get you something?” I could not to rise at that moment but I was able to thank him and following a brief period regained the function of my limbs. I made my way home passing several days healing from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw that man’s face – merely his legs and a large steelwork tools container he held – yet he rescued me, at a moment I was completely helpless.

Often this world has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His act was the type of kindness that reverses that protective shell. He demonstrated that our default setting leans toward compassion, a quality I adore about humanity.