I Was So Ill I Was Unable to Walk As a Stranger Virtually Carried Me to the Toilets.
At the age of nineteenth year, my morning travel involved an packed public transport. The vehicle was always crowded and invariably became without any seats when I boarded.
On one specific day, I was feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle swayed around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to hold on another few kilometres before the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, at which point I could sprint quickly to the closest public toilet to be sick.
We were coming down the road leading to my stop and it dawned on me I would not be to last. Suddenly, it seemed a curtain fell over me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; similar to when one muted everything. My mind raced, “I will lose consciousness”.
Fortunately, I stood near the front on the bus, so I managed a few steps toward the driver and requested that the driver to open the doors, telling him I was going to vomit. The driver opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped out onto the street.
My intention was to avoid being sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and endeavored to stumble to the park across the road, where I thought I could at least discreetly hide among some shrubs to vomit. However I likely fainted. I could feel my limbs, but walking was impossible or see clearly, so I started crawling towards my intended destination.
“Everything alright, love?”
At that moment, I was lifted up. I sensed someone holding me and a stranger inquired, “You right, love?” I explained to this kind passerby that I needed to get to a bathroom. So he virtually carried me into a nearby building and guided me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me whether I required him to stay with me but I refused.
After a short while, I regained my composure enough to sit down and from outside the door I heard his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I could not to stand up at that moment but did manage to express my gratitude and shortly thereafter regained the function of my limbs. I returned home and then spent the following days recovering from what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.
I did not see that man’s face – only his legs and the big container for tools he had with him – but he saved me, at a moment I was at my most vulnerable.
Many times, life tends to make people defensive, aggressive and competitive. What he did was the kind of action that undoes that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that our default setting is to be kind, a trait I cherish about my fellow humans.
