|Posted by firstname.lastname@example.org on July 16, 2020 at 2:05 AM|
Sit me back down, he commands. Gently, we reverse the lift. His hug is still hard around me and we lean down. Once he sits back down, he continues to slump further down. His breathing is raspy and he beats his chest with his fist.
He's gasping for a better breath. Call 911, I say to Lisa. I don't hesitate and she doesn't second guess it. She calls immediately. I sit in front of Ben, he is slumped and struggling.
I'm so grateful for Lisa. My attention and strength is for Ben. I need both arms to hold him up and I couldn't imagine needing one hand to make a phone call. I hear her, vaguely. She is right beside us, but it sounds like she is in the distance, far away. 'Raspy, yes. Gasping, yes. Heart rate is too strong. Yes, Fuller. Stage 4 Cancer.' She's all business with the answers. Thank god she knows them.
I barely hear her, I focus on Ben. My hands are on his shoulders and I look into his eyes.
Just breathe, honey. I'm right here. Slowly, slowly. The ambulance is on the way, we are okay. You're okay. In that moment, I notice that he does not protest, that he knows he needs 911 and my heart stops in my chest. This is bad, so bad. I realise Ben is out of it, trapped in his pain and breathing hardship.
It's okay, I'm right here. I'm right here.