Feeling So Sick I Couldn’t Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to a Restroom.
Back when I was 19 years old, my daily commute was on an crowded coach. It remained full and invariably became standing room only once I boarded.
During a certain commute, I was feeling quite nauseous when the coach lurched around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to persevere for a few more stops before the bus reached my stop, at which point I could rush hurriedly for the nearest public restroom to vomit.
As we neared the avenue close to the stop when I understood I wasn’t going to last. All of a sudden, it felt as if a curtain fell over me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; similar to when one muted everything. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.
Fortunately, I stood close to the driver inside the vehicle, allowing me to take a few steps to ask the driver and told the operator to open the doors, informing him that I was about to get ill. The driver opened the bus doors and I weakly exited out onto the street.
I was determined not to vomit before multiple lanes of cars, so I gathered myself and started trying to walk toward the green space on the other side, where I believed I’d at least be able to find some privacy among some shrubs to vomit. But then I must have lost consciousness. I sensed my limbs, but I was unable to walk or see properly, leading me to start dragging myself toward the park.
“Are you okay, dear?”
At that moment, I got scooped up. I sensed someone holding me and a man’s voice asked, “Everything alright, love?” I explained to this mysterious stranger that I needed to be sick. So he virtually supported my weight down into a close-by structure and placed me in the ladies’ toilets. He asked me if I wanted him to wait for me but I said no.
After a short while, I felt better sufficiently to sit on the restroom floor when from beyond the door I heard him inquire, “Are you OK, love? Can I get you something?” I was incapable to get up just then but did manage to thank him and shortly thereafter was able to move my feet. I returned home passing several days healing from what turned out to be a severe stomach virus.
I did not see that man’s face – only his legs and a large metal toolbox 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. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, something I love in other people.
