“No, not at all,” Yuri said.

The woman nodded again. She ran a rhythm strip with her EKG. She showed it to her partner and commented that it was slow but regular. He nodded.

The woman looked up at Yuri. “How much does she weigh?”

“I don’t know,” Yuri admitted. “A lot.”

“That I can see,” the woman said. She pulled her radio from its belt holster and called into her base. She told the dispatcher they needed assistance to carry an unconscious, obese patient who seemed to be momentarily stable. She said they’d need at least three more guys.

It took considerable effort for the EMTs to get Connie out of the bathroom, onto a stretcher, and out into the ambulance. Yuri was generally ignored through this process, but he was allowed to ride with Connie to the hospital. She was intubated and given oxygen continuously during the ordeal.

At the hospital, Connie was taken into the treatment area while Yuri had to spend time giving the details of Connie’s insurance. Then he was relegated to the waiting room. At one point a disheveled doctor with a ponytail came out and went over the history, particularly in regard to the asthma and allergy. Yuri said that Connie had not had much trouble with her breathing recently, at least since they’d been married. He told the doctor that his wife had described lots of hospital visits and trips to the emergency room before they’d met. In regard to specific allergies, Yuri said he wasn’t sure what she was allergic to but thought it was things like nuts, cats, dust, and pollen.

“How’s she doing?” Yuri asked hesitantly when the doctor got up to leave.

“To be truthful, she’s not doing well,” the doctor admitted. “We’re afraid her brain was denied oxygen for too long. She has no peripheral reflexes whatsoever, which doesn’t bode well for her brain function. I’m afraid it doesn’t look good. I’m sorry.”

Yuri nodded. He wished he could make himself cry, but he couldn’t. Instead he hung his head. The doctor gave his shoulder a squeeze and then disappeared.

An hour later the same doctor reappeared. This time he had a white coat over his crumpled pajama-like outfit. His name tag said Dr. Michael Cooper. He came over to Yuri and sat down. Yuri looked into the man’s gray-green eyes.

“I’m afraid I have bad news,” Dr. Cooper said.

Yuri visibly stiffened. In his mind’s eye he could see Connie suddenly sit up someplace within the depths of the emergency room and say it was something in the ice cream that had first made her see double.

“Your wife has passed away,” Dr. Cooper said softly. “We did all we could, but we just couldn’t help her. I’m terribly sorry.”