When you say things you don’t think. None of you ever think. You don’t think about the impact you have on my confidence or the way you make me feel. You make me feel worthless, like a faker, a drama queen, a liar. If only you’d taken the time to divert your eyes away from the book entitled ‘Asthma’ and instead looked at me and understood. Look at me, at my rapid breathing, my shoulders pumping away, my body shaking under the strain. Look into my eyes and you’ll see the fear, the absolute fear of drowning in my own body. I want you to help. Please. I’m going to die.
Why won’t you help me? The blood test says I’m fine. Well that’s alright then. Take me off the nebuliser and the oxygen and I’ll just get back to what I was doing before this all started. I’ll get two steps out from the bed and I’ll collapse, I’ll go into respiratory arrest, but it’s okay, the blood test says I’m okay right?
I wish you knew how it felt to be treated like a liar.
Perhaps we should swap places. I’ll be you and you be me.
I’ll go ahead and play doctor, and you can play the faking asthmatic. So just do what I do. Breathe rapidly, make a wheeze noise and I’ll just watch and observe you for a few moments. I’ll walk around in my green uniform like the big man, play with the stethoscope a little and then I’ll take blood from your wrist in the most unsympathetic way possible and then I’ll tell you you’re fine because the blood says you are.
A few moments have passed.
What do you mean you can’t breathe? I told you we were swapping places. I am you and you are me. You can breathe fine, remember? The blood says so. So stop faking it. I’ll walk around the bed for a while, have a few secret chats with my colleagues and I’ll pretend that you can’t hear what I’m saying. We will call you a faker and refer to the blood again. I’ll judge you and think what a waste of time treating you was, maybe take time to mention that you’re a bloody good actress. Should have been on the west end instead of practicing law.
Help you? Why would I do that? We have swapped places and this is how it will be for the next few minutes as we agreed. Let me just talk to my colleague again. I’ll ask him why he thinks you’re putting yourself through this and he will reply ‘god knows’. You’ll overhear no doubt, but we won’t care, because you’re a faker.
Why are you looking at me like that? There’s still four minutes left until we can swap back. Come on, be fair, play the game. How about I’ll take some more blood from your wrist and we can decide then?
Come on now, don’t be going to sleep, I’m not that boring. Open your eyes. I know you can hear me. Open them. I’ll shine a light in them if you don’t open them. I know you’re fine. The blood test says so. Wake up. We still have a minute left. You can stay awake for another minute can’t you? Come on, let’s see this thing out. Just you and me.
Don’t fall that way. I’ll have to put the bed barriers up now. You’ve just made my job a whole lot harder. Why are you being such an inconvenience? Ten seconds left until we can swap back so you can wake up now. And you can quit the struggling look in your eyes because I know you’re fine. The blood test says so.
Right time up. We can swap back now.
You’re looking at me differently now. A sense of panic appears across your face as my limp body gives up the fight. I can’t do this anymore. It hurts. Let me just go to sleep. I long for sleep. It’s no good reaching for your stethoscope now, the wheeze has gone. You’ll only hear silence. Go ahead and stick another needle in my wrist. I won’t feel it now. I’m too sleepy. It doesn’t matter that the machines are beeping and everything is flashing red. It’s all fake remember. I must be causing this as well. I can do that you see – I can control machines and make them lie for me too. I’m good at that. I’m an actress remember. Why are you reaching for the intubation kit? That isn’t necessary. I’m fine, I’m just hyperventilating, I’m panicking that’s all. There’s plenty of oxygen going in, so I’ll be alright. Please don’t let me inconvenience you any more than I already have done. I know you have a long day and I’d hate to ruin the first few hours of your shift.
Why are you stroking my hair and holding my hand? I don’t understand. I’ve ruined your day. I’m a faker remember, a prospective lawyer that should have been on the west end. Who are all these people around me? Why are they putting that mask on my face? Get away from me! My oxygen levels are fine. This isn’t asthma. This is just anxiety like you said. Leave me alone.
Where are you going doctor? Why are you holding your head in your hands? Is that a… are you crying doctor? I can’t be that bad surely? Why is that nurse hugging you? Why are you looking at me like that? I’m fine doctor, honestly I’m fine. Just give me a second and I’ll snap out of it and I’ll walk out of here just like you said I could. You can go on and have your day at work without any more inconvenience from me and I can go on and start rehearsals for the west end. Just like you said. I’ll even get you a free ticket if you’d like. Why are you leaving now doctor? It’s almost over. We can laugh about it all in a moment or two.
You’re out in the corridor, head in your hands. Your colleague comes out and says it’s not your fault. He helps you up and you enter the room again.
You’ll look at me differently now than you did before. You’ll come over and reach for my hand instead of reaching for the phone to order the porter to wheel me out into the corridor because I am no longer a priority. You’ll treat me with compassion instead of judgement. You’ll speak with gentleness instead of harshness. You’ll put your stethoscope down and discard the book on asthma that you were reading earlier. It said check the bloods. You did that. The bloods were fine. You were just doing your job. You’re not to blame.
I begged you to help me. I told you I couldn’t breathe. But the book said I'd be okay and I’m an actress remember. A bloody good one as well.
But now I’m lying here with a tube down my throat. I can’t move. I can’t reach out and tell you it’s all a fantasy I had planned out in my head. I would if I could. But I can’t because your colleague there has put me on a ventilator.
Lord knows why. The bloods were fine.
Going to hospital for an asthma attack
