Ashtmatics Anonymous, part II

"Hold on a second, you come in here, two o'clock on a saturday morning, wheezing, coughing, smelling of booze, reeking of smoke and complaining that your asthma medicine doesn't work. And you say I'm judging you!" I only raised my voice a little. I could feel the adrenalin begin to surge in my veins, my haclkes beginning to rise, any thoughts of diplomacy evaporating. Darren began to protest, but I cut him off. "I then give you medicine, which you say doesn't work, and you say I've got an attitude." I turned my back on him, about to walk away.

"Hey, I'm sorry man" Darren called out. I turned around, looking at him expectantly. "I'm just so tired, sick of being sick" their was a note of desperation in his voiced. I softened my tone as I judged him ready to listen.

"How old are you?" I asked him. "Nineteen" he answered. "Do you live at home?" I asked. "Moved out six months ago. Living with some friends" he replied. "Were you always sick when you lived at home?" he shook his head. "How much and how long have you smoked?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, "Couple of years I guess, although only on weekends. That was when I was at home" he said. "And now?" I prompted. He shrugged his shoulders again, his body language trying to say, I don't care, but the incongruency between the visual and the spoken message was stark. "All the time, but it doesn' affect my asthma. The medicine just doesn't work anymore." I chose to avoid talking about the smoking for now.

"When did you last see your doctor. Maybe he could try you with some different medication?" I said. He looked at me in surprise "Two years, I think. What other medicine you talking about?" I went to the respiratory cupboard and took some of the various inhalers we had available and spread them out on the bed. "There's quite a few. Have you ever heard of a preventer?" He shook his head, "What exacatly do you mean by preventer?" I picked up the brown inhaler, "Just what it says, a medicine to help preventing you from having an asthma attack." He picked up the inhaler "It won't work on me. Nothing works" he moaned. It was time to get tough again.

"Darren, start acting like a bloody adult or move back home. Take some responsibility for yourself. Stop moaning and take some initiative. I'm not the person to tell you what you should do, and I'm not going to force you to see a doctor." Darren stared at me defiantly, "Fuck you. You can't speak to me like that?" I began to walk away again. "I just did. Get over it. Here comes the doc, don't be a stubborn idiot with him" I went over to the work bench and wrote down a number. "When you get out of here, this is the number for the asthma educator. It's up to you. Make the call. It may save your life. It's free as well" I handed him the slip of paper and left the room. I let the doctor know all that had happened.

Two weeks later, in a quiet moment in the emergency room, I made a quick phone call. "Who are you again?" Asked Sheila. "I'm calling from the emergency room. Just wondering if you've come across a guy called Darren Smith" I asked. "I'm not supposed to give out inforation" she said "Why do you want to know?" I briefly explained what had happened. "Yeah, I saw him, and I'll be seeing him again. He was a nice young man, he really seemed to appreciate all I did" there was a strange lilt in her voice, almost one of satisfaction, accomplishment, or maybe she even proud. "So you could do something for him?" I asked. "Of course. He was in a terrible way, but we've got him on the right track now." I thanked Sheila and hung up the phone.