Oh God. Had to stay home from work today. Sick. Asthma. Wonderful. Since I talk like this to preserve my breath I'm even writing in telegraphic sentences. Crap. Do you suppose that was Hemmingway's problem? I hated having to read Hemmingway. Even in high school I did not have time for a 50 page description of some dude trying to get a fish into a boat. ( The Old Man and the Sea) Even worse was A Farewell to Arms. It was supposed to be "deep". I sat there wondering if the man had any idea how to write a compound sentence, and alternated between wanting to throw the thing out the window or slash my wrists. It was so depressing. They said Hemmingway was a "man's man" and a "man's writer", a master of the spare, the stark, etc. I had to read a great deal of his work and thought he was was just an old alcoholic who's main goal was to drag other people down into depression so he'd have so company. Oh, wow, now you can say you read some literary criticism....you never know what you're going to get here at "Some Winged Creature"!....

I knew I was going to get sick yesterday. My throat was burning up. It was the pits, and I kept chewing on ice all day at Big Deal, the job-in-a-box. I was really slogging through the Estonian too. I could tell I was "running at 3/4 throttle" as my father says.

Anyway, in the late afternoon, my throat really closed up and I started wheezing - making a sort of high pitched whistling sound as I was breathing. I searched my tote bag and found that - by now you regular readers can probably say it with me - I'd forgotten my rescue inhaler, again. I hot footed into the coffee room where the xerox machine is. Years ago, I learned that if you are just starting to have an athsma attack, if you drink caffine, that can sometimes help you "open up" if you use it in time. This is the only time that I will drink coffee. Black, just a couple of swallows. Like taking medacine.

But, there wasn't any coffee. I stuck two teabags in mug, ran water over them, and went to stick it in the microwave. However, somebody's late lunch was spinning around in there. It only had a couple of minutes, so I figured I would just take it out when it was done heating, set it on top of the microwave, and throw my tea in for a minute and 30 seconds. Meanwhile, I stood very still, facing the sink with my hands folded on the counter reminding myself not to struggle for air: panic is disaster, even though it's hard not to. I started doing the breathing excersises my old doctor taught me years ago, which have held me in such good stead.

I heard somebody come into the room, and start fiddling with the xerox machine behind me, but I didn't pay him any mind. I felt as if I might be getting some improvement.

Presently, another guy entered the room and spoke to the first one,

"Hey, man. What's a-matter with the copier?" the new entrant said.

"I don't know. I can't figure it out. It's making a really weird sound I've never heard before....it's whistling. You hear that?" said The-Man-Who-Needs-To-Get-Out-of-His-Cubicle-More-Often.

"Um, yeah, Mark?"

"I mean, it was doing it when I came in. I didn't even put any paper in it or anything."

"Mark!" his buddy said, more urgently.

I burst out laughing. "It's not the copier. It's me" I said, between breaths, turning and smiling.

There were two guys who could only be described as pencil neck geeks, pockets bristling with pens, PDA's, and other assorted electronica. The first one was blushing furiously. The second one was giving me a look of apology, as if to say, "you have to excuse my friend...."

"Oh my GAWD!" Mark said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't even see you standing there. Is that asthma? Are you all right? I've never heard a person sound like that -"

His buddy, clearly the more observant of the two, glanced at my i.d. badge from the agency. "We have a nurse on site. Do you want one of - er, me, to walk you down there?"

I took the food, which turned out to be his, out of the microwave and put my tea in, all the while laughing in short barkey bursts. "That's okay. I'm improving." I said, and it was true.

Laughter really is the best medicine, but I guess I didn't get a large enough dose to keep me on the playing field today.