Holding on

“Is she going to die?” I ask the firefighter. It’s been 20 minutes since I’ve dialed 911, my wife is lying collapsed on the living room floor of our rural ski cabin. Shortly after, the paramedics and firefighters showed up, lifted Dana’s shirt to attach her to a heart monitor, only to have it all disconnected in a flurry. The words “load and go” is all I had heard.




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