In Such Poor Health I Couldn’t Walk When a Man Practically Supported Me to a Restroom.
Back when I was nineteenth year, my morning travel meant taking an express bus. It remained full and was consistently completely full by the time I got on.
One particular morning, I started experiencing quite nauseous when the coach swayed around each corner. I repeatedly told myself to hold on for a few more stops until the bus got to my stop, so I could then sprint quickly to the closest washroom to vomit.
As we neared the road leading to my stop and I realised I was unable to last. All of a sudden, it seemed a veil came over me. My vision turned hazy and muffled; similar to when one turned off the audio. I said to myself, “I’m going to faint”.
Luckily I was toward the front of the bus, so I took several steps to ask the driver and requested that the driver to stop, explaining to him I needed to get ill. He opened the doors and I stumbled out onto the sidewalk.
I was resolved to avoid being sick in view of six lanes of traffic, so I forced myself up and started trying to make my way to the park opposite the street, thinking I could it would allow me to secretly conceal myself near some foliage to vomit. But then I apparently lost consciousness. I could feel my physical self, yet I couldn’t walk or see properly, leading me to start dragging myself toward the park.
“You right, love?”
Right then, someone picked me up. There was a strong arm supporting me and a stranger inquired, “Everything alright, love?” I told this unknown man that I required to vomit. Therefore, he almost helped me walk over to a nearby building and guided me in the ladies’ toilets. He wanted to know whether I required him to remain with me but I refused.
A few minutes later, I had recovered sufficiently to sit on the restroom floor and from the other side of the door came him ask, “Are you feeling better, dear? Is there anything you require?” I wasn’t able to stand up right away but did manage to say thank you and following a brief period regained the function of my legs. I made my way home passing the following days recovering from which was a nasty tummy bug.
I never glimpsed his features – merely his legs along with a sizable metal toolbox he held – but he helped me, during a time when I was in my weakest state.
Often this world has a way of making you self-protective, pushy, and rivalrous. His was the sort of gesture that undoes that emotional callousness. He served as evidence that people’s natural inclination is to be kind, a trait I cherish about my fellow humans.
