Some of this is just the gist of my recollection, not necessarily verbally accurate to every word spoken to me.
Some of this is 100% precise thoughts and words and deeds – mostly mine.
Overall, though, generalization and sequence should be enough to put you there, with me.
When the operator answered, I was momentarily stunned; marveling at the accuracy of every stereotypical dramatic portrayal of a 911 operator.
“911 – what is your emergency?”
I wasn’t expecting that.
“911 – what is your emergency?”
I wasn’t particularly panicked, but I was absolutely emphatic. “I can’t wake my husband up. I’ve shaken him and yelled in his ear, but I can’t wake him up.”
“Is he breathing?”
I put my ear to his chest.
“Are you still there?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m trying to listen….”
“Do you know CPR?”
“Yes, I think so… but you’ll have to remind me….”
She urged me toward mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, instead.
“OK, tilt his head back.”
“I can’t,” I said. “His head won’t move.”
“Put your hand under his head, and push up on the back of his neck.”
“That’s not working, either,” I said.
“Is his mouth open?”
“Not really,” I reported. “Well, I mean, a little… like normal sleep…not closed, but you know, not open.”
It was explained to me that I was going to have to open his mouth in order to breathe my breath into him. I wasn’t sure how to do that, so I awkwardly tried to ease his lips apart.
“I can’t,” I said. “It won’t open.”
“Try putting your hand in his mouth and pulling down” she suggested.
I inserted two fingertips and squeamishly applied pressure to his bottom teeth.
“It won’t move,” I reported. Exasperated with frustration, I raised my voice to make the situation clearer. “Nothing is working!”
“Is he breathing?” she asked, again.
“I don’t know!” I repeated. “I can’t tell.”
“Do you have a mirror? Can you go find a mirror?”
“Yes,” I said, but I didn’t move.
I stood there, frozen, scanning with my eyes. Head to toes and toes to head and head to toes. Panicked bubbled up as I almost came to grips with reality.
“Are you still there? Did you get the mirror?”
“Yes,” I said, even though I hadn’t left his side.
Instructed to hold the mirror to his lips and watch for condensation fog, I must have registered some part of the truth, at that point.
While I instinctively knew what the mirroring result would be, I also concluded we were wasting time.
I needed to try something else. Something powerful.
Something with enough impact to prove what I didn’t really want proven.
Quote for the Week: 
knabble 