In Such Poor Health I Couldn’t Walk When a Man Practically Supported Me to a Restroom.

At the age of 19 years old, my regular journey to work was on an express bus. It was perpetually crowded and invariably became without any seats when I boarded.

During a certain commute, I was feeling quite nauseous while the vehicle rocked around every turn. I kept telling myself to endure just a little longer until the bus arrived at my stop, at which point I could make a mad dash for the nearest washroom to vomit.

We were coming down the avenue close to the destination as I realised I was unable to make it. In an instant, it seemed a veil came over me. The world became white and really quiet; similar to when one cut the sound. I said to myself, “I am about to pass out”.

Fortunately, I stood toward the front of the bus, allowing me to take a couple of steps forward and requested that the driver to stop, informing him I was going to vomit. He promptly opened the doors and I stumbled out onto the sidewalk.

My intention was to not get sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and endeavored to stumble to the park across the road, where I thought I’d at least be able to secretly conceal myself near some foliage to throw up. Yet I apparently lost consciousness. I could feel my body but walking was impossible or see properly, so I started inching my way to my intended destination.

“You right, love?”

Right then, I was lifted up. I felt someone holding me and heard a man say, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the unknown man that I needed to be sick. So he virtually supported my weight over to an adjacent building and guided me inside the women’s restroom. He wanted to know if I wanted him to remain with me but I declined.

Not long after, I had recovered sufficiently to sit down and from the other side of the door came him ask, “Are you OK, love? Do you need anything?” I could not to get up at that moment but I was able to express my gratitude and following a brief period recovered the use of my feet. I got myself home and then spent the next few days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I never saw the stranger’s face – only his legs and a large steelwork tools container he was carrying – but he saved me, when I was at my most vulnerable.

Frequently, society has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. What he did was the kind of action that reverses that emotional callousness. He was proof that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, something I love in other people.