I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk As a Stranger Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.

During my nineteenth year, my regular journey to work involved an crowded coach. The vehicle was always crowded and would always be completely full when I stepped aboard.

On one specific day, I started experiencing terribly ill when the coach lurched around the bends. I kept telling myself to endure another few kilometres before the bus got to where I needed to get off, at which point I could make a mad dash for the nearest washroom to vomit.

As we neared the road leading to the stop when I understood I wasn’t going to make it. Suddenly, it was like a veil came over me. My vision turned blank and silent; like someone had cut the sound. I said to myself, “I will lose consciousness”.

Thankfully, I was positioned near the front of the bus, so I managed several steps to ask the driver and told the operator to stop, explaining to him I was going to get ill. He opened the entrance and I stumbled out onto the sidewalk.

I was resolved not to vomit in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I forced myself up and started trying to make my way toward the green space on the other side, thinking I could I could at least secretly conceal myself near some foliage to be sick. However I apparently blacked out. I was aware of my limbs, but I was unable to walk and my vision was blurry, leading me to start crawling towards the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I was lifted up. I sensed someone holding me and heard a man say, “You right, love?” I told this mysterious stranger that I had to to vomit. So he virtually helped me walk over to a close-by structure and guided me in the ladies’ toilets. He inquired if I wanted him to stay with me but I said no.

After a short while, I regained my composure enough to sit on the restroom floor and from outside the door came him ask, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I could not to stand up just then but I did succeed to say thank you and after a few more minutes regained the function of my feet. I made my way home passing the following days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I did not see his features – only his legs along with a sizable metal toolbox he held – but he helped me, at a moment I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world can make you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He demonstrated that humanity’s innate tendency is to be kind, a quality I adore in other people.