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“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
He wasn’t breathing.
“Don’t do this to me! Don’t you do this to me again! Do you fucking hear me! Please! Don’t leave me!”
I reached for my phone.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
“He’s not breathing. I don’t know what to do! Please, please, help him!” I explained as much as I could to the operator, but my thoughts were scattered.
“Where is your exact location?”
“We’re in the back of the warehouse overlooking the harbor by Wallace Street and Grant Avenue.”
“Ma’am, help is on the way. I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me?”
“I don’t know! He’s not breathing. Please don’t let him die!”
“Ma’am, I need you to calm down. You can’t help him if you don’t calm down.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me.
“Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to lay him on his side with his knees bent for support. Make sure his face is turned to the side. Can you do that?”
“I think so.”
I gently laid him down on the couch and did as I was told. My hands shaking the entire time.
“The paramedics are almost there.”
The rest proceeded in slow motion.
Paramedics filled the vacant space, pushing me to the side. Narcan being injected up his nose. Paddles shocking him back to life.
“One, two, three, clear.”
His body jolted.
“One, two, three, clear.”
His body jerked again.
“He’s breathing.”
Laying him on a stretcher.
Rushing him into the ambulance.
Holding his hand the entire ride.
Emergency room…
Paperwork…
