It was another early day at work. I had to deliver a hospital bed. I felt shaky as I had another big panic attack last night.
"What's wrong with you?" one of my father's employees asked.
"Didn't sleep good," was my feeble reply.
Got to the customer's house that ordered the bed. It was another Hospice case. A woman's husband was dying. I don't often think about the end of life. I am still so young at 36. I was very kind to the wife and gave her a hug as I left.
"You never know what life will bring you," she solemnly told me.
"No ma'am. You don't," I replied. "You take care of yourself and know you are not alone. Call us if you need anything at the store."
I left and drove back to the pharmacy to return the van.
"It was sad wasn't it?" my father asked as I walked in.
"More glum for an already glum day," I replied.
I drove home thanking the gods that be for my health. Yes, I am having panic attacks, but they are livable despite what I want to tell you.