Feeling So Sick I Was Unable to Walk When a Man Virtually Carried Me to a Restroom.
Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute involved an packed public transport. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be completely full by the time I got on.
During a certain commute, I was feeling quite nauseous when the coach swayed around the bends. I repeatedly told myself to endure just a little longer before the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, and then I could sprint quickly for the nearest public restroom to be sick.
We were coming down the avenue close to my stop and it dawned on me I wasn’t going to last. In an instant, it was like a veil came over me. Everything just went white and really quiet; similar to when one muted everything. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.
Thankfully, I was positioned close to the driver inside the vehicle, so I took several steps to ask the driver and requested that the driver to pull over, explaining to him that I was about to be sick. He promptly opened the entrance and I stumbled out out onto the street.
My intention was not to vomit before multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and began attempting to walk across to the park on the other side, where I thought I could at least discreetly hide behind a bush to throw up. Yet I apparently blacked out. I was aware of my physical self, yet walking was impossible and my vision was blurry, so I began dragging myself toward the park.
“Are you okay, dear?”
At that moment, I was lifted up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I required to get to a bathroom. Therefore, he almost carried me into a nearby building and placed me into the female bathroom. He inquired if I needed him to stay with me but I refused.
A few minutes later, I regained my composure enough to sit on the restroom floor and from the other side of the stall I heard him ask, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I wasn’t able to get up right away but did manage to say thank you and following a brief period regained the function of my legs. I got myself home and then spent several days healing from what was later diagnosed as a horrible case of gastroenteritis.
I did not see that man’s face – just his lower half and the big steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was in my weakest state.
Many times, life has a way of making you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that protective shell. He was proof that humanity’s innate tendency leans toward compassion, something I love in other people.
