He Could Barely Get Two Words Out

He could barely get two words out.

When I first called him, I couldn’t understand him.

So I went to see him.

He was sitting there…

A towel in front of him.

Making a loud, hacking sound.

Trying to breathe.

You didn’t need an explanation.

You could see it.

A few days later, he called me.

I almost didn’t recognize the voice.

“Hey… I’m out of that green stuff.”

He was talking.

Clearly.

Like a different person.

Later, he went back in.

For a check-up.

“Are you sure you ever had emphysema?”

Virgil Schwisow
Nampa, Idaho