*Our Father, who art in Heaven, she just walked in the door*
This old lady, germs-a-radiating, checks in at the counter and sits down. In the chair next to mine on the corner.
All the better to wheeze on you my pretty.
COUGH. COUGH COUGH COUGH.
(sounds like: DEATH. DEATH DEATH DEATH)
*Oh dear Lord* I thought to myself, as I tried to discreetly shift in my chair and let my hair fall over my face. Eyes widened slightly, lips set in a straight line, fervent prayers on their way up. I glanced at the girl to my left as she put her hand up over her mouth and nose and became increasingly interested in her magazine.
Puffs of air were hitting my face, and I realized that while this lady was covering her mouth with her wrinkled little hand, much of the air was still escaping. Onto my face.
I froze. I held my breath. I started to sweat in a flurry of nervous thought. I started to number my days aright.
After a few minutes she was called in by the doctor, and the collective feeling of relief in the waiting room was practically audible.
I think my lungs feel different today…I think….heavier. Definitely heavier. And if I’m not mistaken…was that muscle aching before? Ohmygosh I think all of my muscles are achier than before. Did my head feel like this? I feel sick. Well, not yet. But I think I feel as though I could feel sick. Maybe my body’s trying to tell me something.
Oh Gosh. I have the black lung.