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The first time Obi-Wan remembers having an asthma attack was on his third life day. Creche Master Ali and his creche mates were gathered around the table, singing to him as he prepared to blow out his candles when his chest ached, and he struggled to breathe. It hurt. His breath wheezed and whistled as he desperately scratched at his chest, eyes wide as saucers as the panic worsened.
Obi-Wan had frequent colds and bouts of chest congestion before, even a trip to the halls of pneumonia the winter before. But something about this felt different as he struggled for each breath. Master Ali gently led him to a chair, trying to soothe the rising panic as another creche master commed for a healer.
The plastic medication mask was cupped over his blueish-twinged lips, and he was given three puffs of medication. Master Ali spoke to him in a calm, level voice, encouraging him to breathe gently. By the time Master Che arrived, Obi-Wan was less panicked but still having trouble breathing. He was given oxygen and taken to the halls of healing for further observation.
Over time it got easier to deal with; Master Che helped Obi-Wan figure out the right combination of short-acting and rescue meds. The occasional bouts of respiratory illness and allergic reactions made his lungs fussy, but Obi-Wan began identifying his triggers. By the time he was a teenager, it appeared his asthma had gone into remission. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan experienced a recurrence, and a worse one of that, in early adulthood.
Anakin had been dismayed when he had witnessed a particularly bad asthma attack months after Obi-Wan had taken him as a padawan. He had been frightened that his master was dying, and once they had both processed the scare, Anakin resolved to learn from Chief Healer Che how to administer a rescue inhaler and know the signs. Even today, Anakin is known to carry a rescue inhaler on his person in case Obi-Wan forgets.
That memory of being dazed and unable to breathe, the fear of not having enough oxygen in his lungs, stuck with him. From then on, Obi-Wan was taught how to administer his rescue inhaler and track his symptoms. It wasn’t easy for a young child to be frequently winded and left too tired to play or keep up with his peers.
The Force might love Obi-Wan Kenobi, but the galaxy was not kind to him. It was unfortunate for a Jedi Consular, like Master Kenobi, to travel and visit any number of systems with the local cuisine, flora, and fauna that might kill him or aggravate his asthma and an endless number of health conditions.
Of course, it was Obi-Wan’s luck, naturally, for the 212th to be deployed to a hot desert planet during a sandstorm. Jespassal, located in the Mid-Rim, was covered with deep red and brown coarse sand. The combination of dust, arid air, and extreme temperature was dangerous for his asthma. Obi-Wan was beginning to understand why Anakin hated it so much. Obi-Wan’s body seemed to enjoy conspiring against him, with his tendency to be allergic to everything and his shitty asthmatic lungs.
On a sand dune, Obi-Wan and the small scouting crew evaluated the landscape, having been en route to city hall when the roaring winds and sand threatened to cease their movements. With a click, Obi-Wan led the caravan to a stop, and with a gentle kick, the space camel came to a halt and lowered him to the ground.
“Given the limited visibility, dry winds, and massive walls of sand rattling the fleet, sir, I advise we accept we’re stuck here until it passes.” Commander Cody advised as he handed the binoculars off to his vod, Cart, an expert on scoping landscapes and movements.
Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully. It was far too hot and sticky to remain outside for much longer. He suppressed an urge to joke about seeking the high ground, knowing Anakin would’ve understood his joke. He had not known the men of the 212th for long and was unsure of whether they’d understand his particular humor. Force, he missed Anakin. This latest slew of deployments had been the longest they’d been away.
“I trust your assessment. We should return to The Negotiator, the Council, and our hosts should be informed promptly and strict orders to remain indoors, hydrate, conserve energy, and wear protective gear if one must be outdoors given.” Obi-Wan said in a rather matter-of-fact tone before trying to clear his throat discreetly.
Obi-Wan felt like he was suffocating in the layers of light cloth protecting his eyes, mouth, and throat, his eyes burning and threatening to tear up even in the goggles. He suppressed a cough, not wanting to alert Cody to anything being wrong. Lest he sends the Commander into mother hen mode, and he calls for a medevac. Obi-Wan truly hated the attention, and it was not necessary.
With gentle prompting, Obi-Wan guided his camel to head back to the ships. It took everything within himself to not cough and stay in the saddle. He was thankful to return to the ship before the sand and wind triggered an asthma attack. Obi-Wan grimaced, trying to move swiftly and discreetly back to his office without tipping off Cody.
His lungs burned, and coughs tore from his lips as he dug through his desk for his inhaler. Obi-Wan removed the cap with shaky hands and brought the mouthpiece to his lips. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes, chest moving rapidly, struggling to keep up. He was relieved when the medication was administered and begin to work. It took his entire focus to remember how to breathe again, willing his lungs to do something resembling breathing.
Obi-Wan felt exhausted, but overseeing command didn’t cease or wait. He drew upon the force to sustain him, focusing on staying upright and breathing. Once he composed himself and got the tremors to stop, Obi-Wan updated the Council and their host on the development of the sandstorm.
“I’m afraid we’ve been delayed from arriving in the capital. A sandstorm. Until it passes, my men and I will be grounded. Apologies, I know it isn’t ideal.” Obi-Wan explained, hiding the way the aftershocks of the bronchospasm made his chest ache. There was an urge to rub his chest, to soothe the creek in his neck, shoulders, and back. There was a slight whistle to his breathing, perhaps un unnoticeable to anyone else in the room, but Cody’s enhanced hearing caught it. He waited until after the meeting to say something, though.
“We understand. May you and your fleet remain safe while you ride out the storm. The desert is an unkind and hostile environment to people unfamiliar with navigating such an environment. If there is any way we can be of assistance, please let us know.” Mayor Tos bowed respectfully.
“We thank you for your patience, and we’ll keep you updated about the conditions and when it is safe for us to continue our journey.” Obi-Wan returned the bow.
The call ended, and Obi-Wan relaxed his tense body. His limbs felt heavy, and the siren call of sleep beckoned him. He wouldn’t be able to stave the aftermath of the mild asthma attack for much longer.
“Are you all right, sir?” Cody asked, holding his helmet under his arm.
“It must be the heat. I am feeling tired. I believe I will retire to my quarters if there is nothing else, Commander.” Obi-Wan said promptly.
“Should I have dinner brought to your room, sir?” Cody asked.
“Thank you, Commander, but that is unnecessary,” Obi-Wan reassured before turning on his heel and heading to his quarters.
The General arrived in his room and used the last remaining reservoir of his energy to shower and change into sleep clothes before passing out in his bed. Obi-Wan’s symptoms continued to worsen over the course of the evening.
He was racked by frequent episode coughs. His breath was labored and took more effort than usual. They were short, shallow breaths, and one Obi-Wan lost his breath every third or so. He began to develop allergy-like symptoms of sneezing, congestion, headache, and sore throat.
When he didn’t show up for dinner or retrieve the tray outside his room, Cody checked on him. He found his general sitting on the floor, struggling to catch his wheezy breaths, chest constricting, and shoulders shaking. Cody immediately commed for Sternum and tried to assess Obi-Wan’s condition when he realized Obi-Wan was holding something in his hand, the rescue inhaler, but he didn’t have the hand strength anymore to get the cap off.
Cody helped Obi-Wan sit upright, listening to Sternum’s instructions to administer the medication four times. He encouraged Obi-Wan to take a slow deep breath and hold it as long as he could tolerate it until each puff was taken. With determination and a buzz of fear in the background, Cody administered the fourth puff of medication and encouraged Obi-Wan to breathe. He waited, seeing if there was any improvement. While it was only minutes, it felt like hours as Obi-Wan’s labored breathing was especially noticeable in the quiet room.
“Just hold on, Sir, help is on the way,” Cody reassured, gently squeezing his general’s shoulder. Obi-Wan couldn’t string words together right now, focusing on breathing. But he hoped Cody knew he was grateful the Commander arrived when he did.
When Sternum arrived, he quickly did an assessment and determined Obi-Wan needed to be given additional oxygen support. He apologized for the stick on the needle, being as swift and gentle as he could. Once the medic placed an IV, Sternum began Obi-Wan on a course of corticosteroids and placed the medicated nebulizer over his mouth and nose.
The medic instructed his assistants to begin transport back to the halls as he instructed Cody to grab any items he thought might comfort the General while he was in the med bay. Cody quickly threw together a bag with a change of clothes, sleep clothes, toiletries, a dressing gown, a datapad, the general’s meds, and an assortment of non-caffeinated teas. He moved quickly, not wanting to be too far behind.
Sternum would update the Commander once they had gotten Obi-Wan stabilized and admitted. It was all Cody could do to stay calm. He hadn’t known about the general’s asthma. His general could’ve died, and it frightened him. He searched for the strength and calm needed to be able to comm Anakin and Grandmaster Yoda to inform them of what happened. It took the remainder of his energy to try and soothe Anakin’s anger and fear.
Exhausted, the Commander collapsed in his chair. Even if Anakin and the 501st weren’t deployed to a different sector and made up the difference in travel, it was not possible for them to head towards the location of the 212th. Anakin was upset, and how Anakin and Obi-Wan worry about each other is exhausting. Cody supposed he understood that feeling of worry and anger that followed when a vod was injured.
“Codes?” Sternum called, hoping to rouse his vod. Cody’s eyes were fixed on the clock, bouncing his knee anxiously.
“How is he?” Cody asked, straightening his blacks as he waited for what the medic would say next.
“I believe the General had a severe asthma attack, but at the moment, he’s resting comfortably, and we are working to keep his symptoms under control,” Sternum explained calmly, watching Cody process that information.
“I bet the sand and wind didn’t help, huh?” Cody sighed, shaking his head, he hadn’t known his General for long, but the man sure could be stubborn.
“No, it didn’t. This planet is like the worst possible place for him to be.” The medic shook his head.
Cody muttered something impolite under his breath that made Sternum guff about this damned war.
But you can come back and see him if you wish.” The medic offered, and Cody agreed. He knew his General seemed to have an aversion to medical environments and medics. The Commander held Obi-Wan’s things close, hoping to offer what little comfort he could. Sternum led him back towards the room where the Jedi was.
Cody sat the bag down and took a chair next to the General’s bed, watching the slightly labored but improved rise and fall of the Jedi’s chest. His breath still had a wheeze to it, but overall, his ability to breathe seemed better than how awful it had been in Kenobi’s quarters. Sternum had taken a perch at the desk by the door, working quietly with low light while the General rested.
It was the early hours of the morning when Obi-Wan’s eyes twitched under his eyelids. The Jedi opened, confused as he strained against the oxygen prongs and medicated mask.
Cody squeezed his general’s hand, saying lowly, “Hey, General Kenobi, it’s okay. You had a severe asthma attack and are in the med bay.”
Sternum pushed his chair back, moving towards the bed, wanting to look over Obi-Wan’s vitals and listen to his lungs. He hoped the General was comfortable, knowing his chest, body, and throat might be sore.
“Was this really necessary to make such a fuss?” Obi-Wan asked, pulling the mask away from his face.
“Yes, Lungs? Kind of important, you di’hut.”, Sternum, the 212th’s head medic, tutted in an affectionate scold as he placed the oxygen mask back over Obi-Wan’s mouth.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to make a sound of protest, but the medic shushed him gently, guiding him to rest against the reclined holo stretcher. Sternum asked Obi-Wan to breathe while listening to his lungs with the stethoscope.
“Sounding better than before, your lungs and airway are still irritated as fuck, but you’re headed in the right direction,” Sternum explained.
“Good,” Obi-Wan said tiredly as he yawned.
Sternum tucked the blanket back over the General, dimming the lights to allow him to rest. It did not escape his notice that Cody held Obi-Wan’s hand, watching the monitors to track his breathing and heart rate. He understood it is frightening to care for the wounded and sick during the heat of the battle. There is almost something worse about something like an asthma attack, not a blaster bolt or battle wound to have threatened the General’s health.
“How bad was it?” Obi-Wan asked Cody quietly when Sternum had retaken his perch at the medic’s desk.
“Your lips were blue. I didn’t have to administer rescue breathing, thankfully. Still, it required several rescue buffs of medication, and I was afraid of what would happen if Sternum hadn’t gotten there when he did or if you hadn’t responded to the medication.” Cody admits, chewing his lip nervously.
“I’m sorry to have given you all a fright.” Obi-Wan squeezed Cody’s hand gently.
“I’m sorry you went through that mostly alone.” Cody shook his head.
“I’ve always been stubborn, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan explains apologetically with a twinge of playfulness and remorse.
“I have noticed, sir.” Cody deadpanned.
“I haven’t had an episode that bad in a long time, Cody. This damned planet and sandstorm were a perfect nightmare.” Obi-Wan coughed, body racked by aftershocks as he breathed through his muscles aching in protest.
“Nevertheless, I will ensure that if this happens again, we are prepared. I don’t want to ever find you like that again.” Cody set his jaw determined.
“Thank you, Cody.” Obi-Wan’s heart swelled, voice sincere and kind, as he realized the depth of his Commander and that the 212th cared for him already. Despite this being still so new to them all and under unprecedented, less-than-ideal conditions.
Sleep’s siren call pulled Obi-Wan back under. His eyes were heavy, and he laid his head back, unable to resist any longer. It had been a long day, and he needed his rest to heal. It would be several days until he felt even semi-decent again, and there were some touch-and-go episodes occasionally.
But Cody and Sternum were true to their word, ensuring the Vod understood the signs of an asthma attack and that several inhalers were located on the Navigator, including the one Cody carried on his belt loop. Just because you’ve dealt with something your entire life doesn’t mean you must shoulder it alone.
Fin.