I remember saying "I'm a little short of breath - must be an upper respiratory infection - go back to sleep. I'm OK. I'm gonna shower and head down to the school - I've got an early lecture and papers to grade. I will catch up with you for lunch".
The 'early lecture' was for my standardized patient program at the medical school where I had been teaching for 20 years. After my lecture, one of the students asked me if I needed help getting to the clinic. She said she'd drive me if I needed. I told her "this is just an Upper Respiratory Infection, I'm fine - thank you for your concern." I remember, as she walked away she looked back towards me with a troubled look on her face but continued on down the hallway. I commanded respect. I was the professor. I didn't need help. I provided help. And my breathing was better than it had been.
When I drove home at lunchtime, my son and I arrived simultaneously. Dan asked me if I wanted to help him with a video taping session that he was doing at the high school after lunch. "Absolutely." Any chance I got, when the rare occasion arose, that my son asked me to help, - (my teenage son), - I helped. We grabbed a quick bite and were headed out the door, when my wife peeked into the kitchen. "How are you feeling? Barbara (my secretary) called and said that there was some concern about your breathing." ( cont. p. 5 )
In 2005, I was awakened out of a sound sleep not able to catch my breath. I sat up on the edge of the bed and forced myself to breathe. At 3:30 am, my wife was startled by my rapid movement and whispered "Are you OK?"
I'm Fine
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