The Long Haul
I’m fixated on the long-sufferers in the Bible, the bleeding woman, the crippled man who had to be carried to the pool, and the one who had to be let down through a roof by friends. Now I don’t want to seem ungrateful or unfaithful, but there is something about not being able to breathe which shakes me to my core. When it’s a struggle, when each breathe feels like I am dipping down into an endless well and drawing up a single cup’s worth of barely drinkable water, I get panicky. Over the years I have learned how to control my asthma and not have full-on attacks, but all it takes is one misstep and off I go down into the oblivion of struggling to breathe. The last time I kicked off my asthma it was because I stupidly was Lysoling everything to death. They had announced that people with asthma were high risk for Covid, but not given any more information really. So I cleaned away my anxiety and inadvertently kicked off an asthmatic fit that lasted like three weeks. Now I’m not trying...

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