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I can’t breathe.
It’s sudden, paralyzing. I haven’t had a panic attack like this in a while now.
I’m drowning.
You’re not drowning, I tell myself, you’re just having a panic attack.
Breathe, I tell myself, and I do; forcing myself to gulp in air in volumes too large for my lungs to contain. I hold the air in, its weight pulling my lungs, straining my heart, near bursting in my chest. Then release.
Count your breaths, I remind myself, and repeat the process of filling my lungs again, this time mindful not to weigh down my chest too much with the strain of excess air. I keep at it, forcing air in, holding for a few moments too long, and releasing.
But It’s not working.
Look for five things I can see, I try. Five things, that’s all.
Laptop, notebook, pens, I think, continuing to breathe slowly and deeply; forcefully and deliberately. Nope, no difference. In fact, I kinda feel worse. Lightheaded. Even though my breathing is slow. Why?
Hailey.
I want Hailey.
Shaking, I fumble with my phone, hovering over apps till I find the right icon, pressing Hailey’s name as soon as the favorites list pops up.
One ring. Two rings. Three ri-
“Hi Grace, what’s up?”
“Hailey,” I whimpered. “Hailey, can you come get me? Please?”
“Of course I can, sweetheart. What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“The U library. Hailey, please. Please hurry.” I rasp out, my breath escaping before I can even draw it in. “Can’t— can’t breathe. Chest tight.”
“Asthma?” She asks gently.
“No.” I gasp and sputter, but it gives way to strangled coughs that hint a future trip to the ER and nebulizers.
“Okay, Grace, it’s okay- just breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you find a wall you can back up against? In a study room maybe.” She asks in the same soothing tone.
“Yeah. ‘M in one now.” I manage after a few forced breaths that overfill my lungs and remind me that hyperinflated lungs are no joke to mess around with and I’m playing a dangerous game of cardiopulmonary roulette if I keep pressuring myself to inhale copious volumes of air.
“Okay, that’s good. I want you to back into the corner so that you can see everything and you're well supported, okay? Lean into the walls if you have to: that’s what they’re there for.” She coaxes, and I hear a car door slam. Trying to stay awake, I do as she says, fitting my rounded shoulders up against the diagonal angles of the walls. Pressing into them, feeling my shoulder blades make as much contact as possible, the bones slotting against the firm cold, the muscles pressing into its grounding solidity.
“Do you happen to have a smartwatch or an oximeter on you?” Hailey asks after a moment.
“No,” I breathe out. “Haven’t had as–” I wheeze before I can finish my words, then cough as I try to get my breath back. I don’t hear anything over the phone as I sputter and hold off on another gasping breath to try and regulate my air.
“--Asthma this bad for a while. Thought it might be panic.” I finally finish after a minute, once my chest settles slightly and I feel stable enough to talk without passing out.
“Okay, hon– Jay and Kevin went to check something out, but they’re gonna meet us at Med when they’re done. Kim and I are on our way.” She tells me. “Take a couple puffs of that inhaler– it may have started out as a panic attack and turned into something else. After that, you can pull up the tracking app– that way you’ll be able to see us and how far away we are. We’re getting closer, kiddo. Just stay on the line, we’ll be there soon.”
I do as she says, the bitter taste of the albuterol settling on the one part of my tongue I can never seem to get out of the way. My lungs don’t feel any different after the first puff, but the second one seems to help me, so there may be hope after all. After a minute, I swap my inhaler out for my phone to pull up the tracking app, and sure enough I can see her little dot moving closer to mine on my phone screen.
Ten minutes away, it says on the phone. I can hang on for ten minutes.
“Gracie, I think I should call 911. You don’t sound that great, hon. Even after that inhaler, I can hear that rasping over the phone and I’ve known you long enough to know that’s not good.” she breaks it to me gently.
I had a feeling this was coming after I started coughing mid-sentence, but I was hoping I was being dramatic.
“No medics.” my voice is strained, choked even. Medics mean strangers. Medics don’t always like 20-something chronically sick people like me. Medics don’t really see anything wrong with me sometimes. They sometimes ignore me and push me down.
“I know, hon, I know you don’t want them. But I don’t like the way your breathing sounds and I don’t want us to have gotten there too late. We don’t have any oxygen on us, Gracie, but the Ambo’s do. We’ll be there as soon as we can, and we won’t get off the line until we see you.” Hailey reasons. “Please, Grace, let us call an Ambo. Kim can even call it in while you and I stay on the phone so you can hear what goes over dispatch. We’ll make sure they’re nice to you.”
Dang it. They know how to play the right cards.
“Okay.” I consent shakily. “Okay, call them.”
“Gracie, it’s Kim. I’m starting the radio call over dispatch so you can hear it over the speakerphone.” Kim’s nice enough to announce what she’s about to do so I’m prepared to hear the little crackles and beeps.
“50-21 Eddie to EMS Dispatch, I need an Ambo at 801 S. Morgan for a 22 year old female having difficulty breathing, history of severe asthma and cardiopulmonary issues. Patient is currently breathing and responsive.”
“50-21 Eddie this is EMS Dispatch, copy; Sending a unit now. Are you on scene?” The dispatcher asks.
“No we’re on our way– we’re on the phone with the patient making regular checks to make sure they’re still conscious and responsive. The patient is in the group study room on level-”
"Three. Reserved." I cough out.
“Level three– it’ll be the door with the sign that says ‘reserved’” I can hear Hailey cut in to clarify.
“Confirming 50-21 Eddie, I’m sending paramedics to Level 3 to the study room marked ‘reserved’ at 801 S. Morgan.”
“Affirmative. Our ETA is seven minutes. Over.” Kim finishes her end of the transmission.
“EMS Dispatcher to 50-21 Eddie, Roger. Ambo 45 is dispatched to 801 S. Morgan, ETA four minutes. Over and Out.” The dispatcher ends the transmission and the radio gets shut off.
“Hear that, Grace? Ambo’s a few minutes away. We’re getting there as soon as we can, just focus on your breathing, okay?” Hailey urges.
“Okay.” I reply, still not feeling the greatest. My lungs kind of feel like rocks in my chest– heavy and unmoving. But the inhaler puffs I took must be doing something, because I’m still moving some air and can feel the whistle within the top of my chest every time I draw a breath.
“Good job, Gracie. You’re doing good. Keep breathing and focusing on your air, okay?” Hailey reminds me.
“Yeah.” I reply.
“Do you feel like you need another puff or two?” She asks, knowing I’ve been through this enough to know when my meds are working well and when they don’t do shit.
“Yeah, but I don’t want my chest feeling funny.” My chest tightens again and my throat dries up, causing my voice to crack towards the end of the sentence.
“Any mints or water on you?” Hailey keeps at it, bless her. Remembering all the things that help when I’m too preoccupied to do it.
“No mints. But water.” I say, already reaching for it, my mouth parched and getting sore.
“Okay, small sips. We don’t want you choking. Paramedics should be there any minute now.” She coaches me through the next minute or two until two paramedics show up, one hauling oxygen and a mask. I hold up the phone, showing them the call on speaker when they squeeze themselves into the room, and begin answering their questions as they begin working me up. Hailey and Kim fill in where I can’t, speaking so I can just focus on breathing.
Heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen sats and temp all taken, they put me on low flow O2. They don’t like the sound of my lungs either, but they promise to wait till Hailey and Kim get here before trying to load me onto a stretcher in front of the entire library population.
God, this better not end up on social media.
Footsteps approach, and I hear the call shut off, right as I see Hailey burst through the door and grab my hands firmly.
“I’m here.” She reassures me. “It’s gonna be okay, hon. I’m right here– I’m not going anywhere.”
And for just a moment, everything is okay like she says it’ll be.