I Was So Ill I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Virtually Carried Me to the Toilets.

At the age of my late teens, my regular journey to work was on an packed public transport. It remained crowded and was consistently completely full once I boarded.

One particular morning, I was feeling terribly ill while the vehicle lurched around the bends. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer before the bus arrived at where I needed to get off, and then I could rush hurriedly toward the most convenient public toilet to throw up.

As we neared the road leading to my stop and I understood I was unable to last. All of a sudden, it was like a fog descended upon me. The world became white and really quiet; like someone had turned off the audio. My mind raced, “I am about to pass out”.

Thankfully, I was positioned toward the front on the bus, so I managed a couple of steps forward and requested that the driver to pull over, explaining to him that I was about to get ill. He opened the doors and I stumbled out out onto the street.

I was resolved not to vomit in view of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and started trying to make my way toward the green space opposite the street, thinking I could it would allow me to discreetly hide behind a bush to be sick. However I must have lost consciousness. I could feel my limbs, but walking was impossible and my vision was blurry, so I started dragging myself toward the park.

“Everything alright, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I sensed someone holding me and a stranger inquired, “Everything alright, love?” I explained to this unknown man that I required to be sick. So he virtually helped me walk into a close-by structure and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He wanted to know whether I required him to wait for me but I refused.

A few minutes later, I felt better sufficiently to sit on the restroom floor when from beyond the stall I heard his voice asking, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I was incapable to stand up just then but did manage to express my gratitude and following a brief period recovered the use of my feet. I made my way home passing the next few days getting over what turned out to be a nasty tummy bug.

I never glimpsed the stranger’s face – just his lower half and the big metal toolbox he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was in my weakest state.

Many times, life can make you defensive, aggressive and competitive. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that hardening of the heart. He served as evidence that our default setting leans toward compassion, something I love about my fellow humans.