Feeling So Sick I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Virtually Carried Me to a Bathroom.

During my my late teens, my regular journey to work meant taking an packed public transport. It remained crowded and would always be without any seats when I got on.

On one specific day, I was feeling incredibly sick as the bus lurched around every turn. I repeatedly told myself to hold on for a few more stops until the bus arrived at my destination, and then I could sprint quickly toward the most convenient public restroom to be sick.

As we neared the road leading to the destination as I understood I was unable to last. In an instant, it seemed a fog descended upon me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; like someone had turned off the audio. My mind raced, “I will lose consciousness”.

Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front of the bus, allowing me to take a few steps toward the driver and requested that the driver to open the doors, informing him I was going to vomit. He opened the bus doors and I weakly exited on to the pavement.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I forced myself up and began attempting to walk toward the green space opposite the street, where I believed I could at least find some privacy among some shrubs to throw up. Yet I must have blacked out. I could feel my limbs, but I was unable to walk or see clearly, so I started crawling towards the park.

“Are you okay, dear?”

In that instant, someone picked me up. I sensed a strong arm supporting me and a man’s voice asked, “You right, love?” I told this kind passerby that I had to to vomit. So he virtually carried me down into a nearby building and guided me into the female bathroom. He inquired if I wanted him to remain with me but I declined.

After a short while, I had recovered enough to sit on the restroom floor and from outside the door came him ask, “Are you OK, love? Is there anything you require?” I could not to stand up at that moment but did manage to say thank you and shortly thereafter recovered the use of my feet. I got myself home passing the next few days getting over which was a nasty tummy bug.

I never glimpsed his features – merely his legs and the big container for tools he had with him – but he saved me, when I was in my weakest state.

Often this world can make you guarded, hostile, and combative. What he did was the kind of action that reverses that hardening of the heart. He demonstrated that humanity’s innate tendency leans toward compassion, something I love in other people.