It was past nine in the evening, and the mall was about to close. For the weirdest reason, I found myself worrying that something wouldn’t turn out right when you arrive. No, don’t worry. This is something new, I tell myself as I rub my hands together, while waiting for you outside the mall.
At last, after a few minutes of waiting, you came. I tried my best to assess this situation and not make a fool out of myself. You confirmed our meet up spot was closed already, and you suggested we go elsewhere just before you ride the bus to your weekday place.
I tried to do small talk, but there you were fixated on something you didn’t want to disclose. After that flight of stairs and another stumble, I decided to just bring you back to the bus stop, as you constantly reassure me that nothing is wrong. (As if I would take that for real.)
Why does it always have to be like this, when I go to such places? Always afraid of sending off someone close to me, and feeling they may never come back?
As I slowly succumb to the cold air, and the texts that came colder than your usual warm self, I begin to question myself.
It made me realize how much I hate buses.
A 24-year-old Asian male presents to the ER with tachypnea, shortness of breath, and generalized urticaria. The patient has no known maintenance medications to relieve the symptoms he is currently experiencing before coming to the ER. A physical examination revealed the following: HR 110bpm, RR 40 with signs of accessory muscle use.
A brief history of the patient reveals that he has been trying to patch things up with his partner of eight months, after a whirlwind dating phase that lasted only roughly two weeks. The patient discloses that he was unaware that things would have gone out of hand, and symptoms of said event manifested abruptly one Saturday evening after receiving too many messages from his partner.
Accumulation of said allergen in the system may have caused this allergic reaction in the patient, causing him to lose motivation and feel irritability at the mere thought of this peron.
Aerosol treatment was ordered and given with 0.5 cc albuterol with 3.0 cc normal saline in a small-volume nebulizer for 10 minutes. Peak flows done before and after the treatment was 125/250, and auscultation revealed loud expiratory wheezing and better airflow.
Symptoms began to resolve, and the patient was advised to resolve his current ordeal with his partner; if they would accept their excessive neediness of one another, come to terms with this to prevent his reexposure to this allergen, and refrain from whirlwind relationships, things would be better.
I took awhile, standing there at the corner of the street overlooking his place, one Saturday night. Texting him that I was standing just below the light post was not an option anymore. Not anymore.
After ten minutes or so, I began walking the long road back to my place. We used to love doing this together – me and him. I didn’t bother taking a jeep, just so I could slowly drown myself in my thoughts, and to let the idea sink in, that I may probably not see him in person again.
I walked along all the side streets that we used to walk on. Only this time, I was the only one walking myself home. I recall the jokes, the teasing, the surprise kisses in the dark side of the street. His hands that held mine. All that’s left are my hands that clasped each other to fend off the cold.
Maybe I never should have tried. But then again, I was always the hoping type.