I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk When a Man Essentially Lifted Me to a Restroom.

Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute was on an crowded coach. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be standing room only once I got on.

During a certain commute, I was feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle lurched around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer until the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient washroom to vomit.

We were coming down the avenue close to the destination as I understood I wasn’t going to hold on. All of a sudden, it felt as if a fog descended upon me. Everything just went blank and silent; like someone had turned off the audio. I thought, “I will lose consciousness”.

Thankfully, I was positioned near the front inside the vehicle, so I took a couple of steps forward and asked the driver to stop, explaining to him I needed to vomit. The driver opened the bus doors and I weakly exited onto the sidewalk.

My intention was to avoid being sick in front of a busy multi-lane road, so I gathered myself and began attempting to stumble across to the park opposite the street, where I thought it would allow me to secretly conceal myself among some shrubs to vomit. However I must have lost consciousness. I could feel my physical self, yet I was unable to walk or see clearly, so I started inching my way to my intended destination.

“Are you okay, dear?”

In that instant, I was lifted up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a stranger inquired, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the kind passerby that I had to to get to a bathroom. Thus, he practically carried me into a close-by structure and guided me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me if I wanted him to wait for me but I declined.

Not long after, I felt better to the point of sitting on the toilet and from outside the door came his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I was incapable to rise at that moment but did manage to thank him and shortly thereafter regained the function of my limbs. I returned home and spent the following days healing from which was a nasty tummy bug.

I never glimpsed his features – just his lower half along with a sizable metal toolbox he held – yet he rescued me, when I was at my most vulnerable.

Many times, life has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His act was the type of kindness that undoes that protective shell. He served as evidence that our default setting is to be kind, a trait I cherish about my fellow humans.