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I’m only catching every few words. He moves, and I want to reach out to him. Beg him not to go. I hear him running then yelling.
“Auntie Paola! Auntie Paola! Hurry!”
I don’t feel right. Like really don’t feel right. Like worse than I ever have. I hear more feet running, but I don’t know what’s going on. My chest hurts so fucking much. I know Gabriele would never sit on me, but it feels like it. I try to move my hand to rub my chest, but my arms aren’t obeying.
“Hello. I think my girlfriend is having a heart attack. She’s thirty-years old, shallow breathing, pale and clammy skin, pulse is racing, and she isn’t responding to anything I say. It’s been like this for at least three minutes.”
A heart attack? I’m way too young for that, aren’t I? Maybe not. It would explain how I feel. Wait. Girlfriend? I— I—
“Sinead, can you hear me?
Someone’s shaking me. Not hard, but it feels like I’m rattling around in a can.
“Sinead, I’m Maria. I’m a doctor. Can you hear me?”
I try to make a sound, but nothing is happening. I feel someone wrapping my fingers around someone else’s finger.
“Sinead, I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to aspirin? Squeeze my finger if you arenotallergic.”
“Not allergic?”
Who is that? It’s a man.
“Because I don’t want to misunderstand if she is. I’d rather not give it to her than risk her having an allergic reaction on top of a heart attack.”
I’m squeezing as hard as I can. Can she feel it?
“She’s not allergic. Matteo, get my purse. There’s aspirin in the first aid kit. Sinead, I’m going to give you a chewable tablet. I need you to try, okay? Gabe, help me sit her up. It’ll take some of the strain off her heart.”
This woman is gentle, even if she’s authoritative. She’s shoving pillows behind me as someone pulls me forward. I look up and see Gabriele. Once I’m positioned the way she wants, she helps open my mouth and slides in a pill that’s already broken into smaller pieces. I let it sit on my tongue because I can’t do anything else. I try swallowing, and it’s not bad. I think I get the whole thing down.
“Matteo, there’s the ambulance. Can you let them in?”
I don’t know the woman’s voice. Is that Paola?
“I’m Dr. Mancinelli. This is Sinead O’Malley. She’s thirty years old and presenting with sudden stress induced cardiac arrythmia. She’s got tachycardia with a pulse at one-twenty now. But it’s dropped back to eight-six and eighty-two in the ten minutes I’ve been here. She’s been minimally conscious and verbally unresponsive for twenty minutes and didn’t rouse when I took her blood pressure, which was eight-five over fifty-five. She squeezed my finger earlier to show she is not allergic to aspirin. She took three-hundred milligrams about four minutes ago in case this is a heart attack.”
While Maria’s talking, someone’s put an oxygen mask over my face. Finally. And twenty minutes? That’s not possible. I would have remembered this lasting twenty minutes. What’s minimally conscious? Did I faint? Is that what she means? I must have because I don’t remember her arriving. But I didn’t know fainting could last this long.
“Dr. Mancinelli, we’ll take her now.”
Before I know what’s happening, I’m being lifted onto a stretcher. I have control of my arms again, and I fling my right one out toward Gabriele. I catch his sleeve and cling to it.
“Sinead, I’m going to follow you to hospital. I’ll be there when you get there.”
I tighten my fist as Gabriele tries to pry my fingers off. Where the hell did this strength come from?
“Can I ride with my girlfriend?”
“Yeah. We need to go.”
“We’ll follow, Gabe.”
I shift my gaze to Maria’s. I can see clearly now. I see a man standing behind her, his arms around her middle. Then there’s a gorgeous middle-aged woman by the bedroom door.
“Auntie Paola, will you let the others know?”
“Of course. Keep us posted.”
