Asthma in the City

What the heck is the proper way to exit gracefully when I am having a full blown attack in the middle of a meeting with the speaker between me and the door? 

So far, all my answers to that have been to leave the room asap.  Damn the torpedoes, the speaker, the conference and get to the hallway.

Sorry, folks, that was not how I was programmed.  Good southern girls of my generation — albeit probably earlier than my generation were pinched to death by their grandmothers and told …. “Never make waves, never show people your weaknesses, and never, ever, ever, interrupt a meeting for something as mundane as not being able to draw a breathe.”

I am sure someone would have gotten to me if I had fallen to the floor after not breathing for a minute but happily that didn’t happen.  I started to breath before I passed out.  Thank God and now I have a rescue inhaler with me wherever I go.

This just sucks but it is life in NoVa in the summertime.

And sadly, I have no idea what triggered it.  Probably dust. 

Joy, joy

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