In Such Poor Health Walking Was Impossible Until a Fellow Passenger Practically Supported Me to the Toilets.

At the age of 19 years old, my regular journey to work meant taking an express bus. It was perpetually full and would always be completely full when I stepped aboard.

On one specific day, I started experiencing quite nauseous when the coach swayed around the bends. I repeatedly told myself to endure for a few more stops before the bus arrived at my stop, at which point I could make a mad dash toward the most convenient washroom to vomit.

As we neared the road leading to the stop when I realised I would not be to make it. All of a sudden, it was like a fog descended upon me. The world became white and really quiet; as if someone cut the sound. I thought, “I’m going to faint”.

Thankfully, I was positioned close to the driver on the bus, allowing me to take a few steps toward the driver and asked the driver to pull over, informing him that I was about to be sick. He opened the doors and I stumbled out on to the pavement.

I was resolved not to vomit in view of multiple lanes of cars, so I picked myself up and started trying to walk across to the park across the road, thinking I could I’d at least be able to discreetly hide near some foliage to vomit. Yet I must have fainted. I sensed my body but I couldn’t walk or see properly, so I began dragging myself toward the park.

“You right, love?”

In that instant, someone picked me up. There was a strong arm supporting me and a man’s voice asked, “You right, love?” I managed to tell the kind passerby that I required to be sick. Thus, he practically supported my weight over to an adjacent building and guided me into the female bathroom. He wanted to know whether I required him to remain with me but I said no.

Not long after, I had recovered enough to sit on the toilet and from the other side of the stall I heard him ask, “Do you need anything, love? Is there anything you require?” I wasn’t able to get up just then but did manage to express my gratitude and following a brief period recovered the use of my feet. I returned home and spent the next few days recovering from which was a horrible case of gastroenteritis.

I never glimpsed his features – just his lower half and a large metal toolbox he had with him – yet he rescued me, when I was at my most vulnerable.

Many times, life has a way of making you guarded, hostile, and combative. His was the sort of gesture that melts away that emotional callousness. He was proof that people’s natural inclination leans toward compassion, a trait I cherish about humanity.