“My medical bag. It’s upstairs in my room. Left closet.”
She runs immediately, and I hear her sprinting up the stairs.
I turn back to Mrs. Campbell.
“Any history of allergies?”
“Dust mites. And cats.”
“Has he been around a cat recently?”
“No. Not that I know of. But... he was playing in the attic this afternoon. There’s a lot of dust up there. I never should’ve let him. I was busy and…”
Her throat closes before she can finish the sentence.
Mary returns with my medical bag.
I open it, pull out the portable nebulizer, and prepare a dose of salbutamol.
“Robbie, I’m going to give you medicine to help you breathe better. You’re going to wear this mask over your face, okay?”
The boy nods weakly.
I fit the mask over his face and start the nebulizer.
“Breathe normally. Don’t force it. Let the medicine do the work.”
We wait.
One minute.
Two.
Three.
Mrs. Campbell cries silently in the corner while Mary places a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Five minutes.
Robbie’s breathing begins to improve.
The wheezing softens.
His shoulders relax slightly.
Seven minutes.
He’s breathing.
Not perfectly.
But better.
Much better.
I remove the mask and listen to his lungs again.
Clearer now.
