I Was So Ill I Couldn’t Walk Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.

Back when I was 19 years old, my morning travel meant taking an crowded coach. The vehicle was always full and was consistently standing room only when I stepped aboard.

During a certain commute, I was feeling incredibly sick while the vehicle swayed around each corner. I continuously reassured myself to hold on for a few more stops so the bus could arrived at my stop, and then I could make a mad dash to the closest washroom to throw up.

We were coming down the avenue close to the destination as I understood I wasn’t going to make it. All of a sudden, it was like a curtain fell over me. The world became white and really quiet; similar to when one muted everything. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Fortunately, I stood toward the front on the bus, allowing me to take a few steps forward and told the operator to stop, telling him I needed to vomit. He opened the entrance and I weakly exited on to the pavement.

I was resolved to avoid being sick in front of six lanes of traffic, so I gathered myself and began attempting to make my way toward the green space on the other side, where I thought I’d at least be able to find some privacy behind a bush to be sick. But then I likely fainted. I sensed my body but I was unable to walk and my vision was blurry, leading me to start dragging myself toward my intended destination.

“Everything alright, love?”

At that moment, I got scooped up. I sensed someone holding me and a man’s voice asked, “Are you okay, dear?” I told this unknown man that I required to be sick. So he virtually supported my weight down into an adjacent building and guided me into the female bathroom. He asked me if I needed him to remain with me but I declined.

A few minutes later, I regained my composure to the point of sitting down and from outside the door I heard his voice asking, “Are you feeling better, dear? Can I get you something?” I could not to stand up right away but did manage to express my gratitude and shortly thereafter regained the function of my feet. I got myself home passing several days recovering from what was later diagnosed as a nasty tummy bug.

I did not see the stranger’s face – merely his legs along with a sizable container for tools he had with him – yet he rescued me, during a time when I was at my most vulnerable.

Often this world tends to make people defensive, aggressive and competitive. What he did was the kind of action that melts away that protective shell. He was proof that our default setting leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish about humanity.