In Such Poor Health I Couldn’t Walk As a Stranger Essentially Lifted Me to the Toilets.
Back when I was nineteenth year, my daily commute involved an crowded coach. It remained crowded and invariably became without any seats by the time I got on.
On one specific day, I began feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle swayed around each corner. I kept telling myself to persevere another few kilometres until the bus got to my stop, and then I could make a mad dash to the closest public restroom to be sick.
The bus was approaching the road leading to the stop when it dawned on me I wasn’t going to last. In an instant, it was like a curtain fell over me. My vision turned white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. My mind raced, “I am about to pass out”.
Luckily I was toward the front of the bus, so I took a couple of steps to ask the driver and requested that the driver to open the doors, explaining to him that I was about to get ill. He opened the entrance and I hurriedly stepped onto the sidewalk.
I was determined to not get sick before six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and started trying to make my way toward the green space across the road, where I thought I’d at least be able to secretly conceal myself near some foliage to be sick. But then I apparently lost consciousness. I could feel my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I began inching my way to the grassy area.
“Are you okay, dear?”
At that moment, I got scooped up. I felt someone holding me and a stranger inquired, “Are you okay, dear?” I explained to this unknown man that I required to be sick. Thus, he practically helped me walk into a close-by structure and placed me inside the women’s restroom. He asked me if I wanted him to stay with me but I declined.
After a short while, I had recovered to the point of sitting on the toilet and from outside the stall I heard his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Can I get you something?” I could not to get up right away but did manage to say thank you and after a few more minutes regained the function of my limbs. I made my way home and then spent several days recovering from what turned out to be a horrible case of gastroenteritis.
I never glimpsed his features – merely his legs and a large container for tools he was carrying – yet he rescued me, at a moment I was at my most vulnerable.
Many times, life tends to make people self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that protective shell. He served as evidence that our default setting is to be kind, a trait I cherish in other people.