The woman behind the glass asks Carroll why she has come to the ER. “I can’t breathe,” Carroll says. Simple enough. To the triage nurse, she jokes she is a frequent flyer. The staff take her blood, check her vitals, hook her up to a heart monitor, give her a bed, admit her. She wheezes. Her blood oxygen is so low she feels like she is floating. Sick for the holidays. For some reason that matters. She can’t cook. She can’t clean. She coughs.
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