Mac jumped up, panting like an obese dog suffering in a heat wave. His heart drummed out of his chest. Startled from a sound sleep, he didn\u2019t know what was wrong. He leapt out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. He couldn\u2019t breathe. He couldn\u2019t think. There\u2019s something wrong, he finally thought, I\u2026I need help. He searched frantically for an enemy. There was none. As he stared at the frightened man in the mirror, he considered calling out to his sleeping wife. She has enough to worry about with the kids, he thought, but was already hurrying toward her. \u201cJen,\u201d he said in a strained whisper.<\/p>\n

She stirred but didn\u2019t open her eyes.<\/p>\n

The constricted chest, sweaty face and shaking hands made Mac wonder whether he was standing at death\u2019s door, cardiac arrest being his ticket in. I have to do something now, he thought, or I\u2019m a goner. \u201cJen,\u201d he said louder, shaking her shoulder.<\/p>\n

One eye opened. She looked up at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s happening again,\u201d he said in a voice that could have belonged to a frightened little boy.<\/p>\n

Jen shot up in bed. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2026I can\u2019t breathe. My heart keeps fluttering and I feel\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m calling an ambulance,\u201d she said, fumbling for her cell phone.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said instinctively, \u201cit\u2019ll scare the kids.\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked up at him like he was crazy.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll go to the emergency room right now!\u201d Grabbing for a pair of pants, he started to slide into them.<\/p>\n

Jen sprang out of the bed. \u201cI\u2019ll call my mom and have her come over to watch the kids. In the meantime, Jillian can\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Mac shook his foggy head, halting her. \u201cNo, I\u2019m okay to drive,\u201d he said, trying to breathe normally.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut babe,\u201d she began to protest, fear glassing over her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll text you as soon as I get there,\u201d he promised, \u201cand then call you just as soon as they tell me what the hell\u2019s going on.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jen\u2019s eyes filled. \u201cOh Mac\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He shot her a smile, at least he tried to, before rushing out of the house and hyperventilating all the way to the hospital.<\/p>\n

\u29dd<\/p>\n

I\u2019m here, Mac texted Jen before shutting off the ringer on his phone.<\/p>\n

The scowling intake nurse brought him right in at the mention of \u201cchest pains.\u201d Within minutes, the E.R. staff went to work like a well-choreographed NASCAR pit crew, simultaneously drawing blood while wiring his torso to a portable EKG machine.<\/p>\n

As quickly as the team had responded, they filed out of the curtained room. A young nurse, yanking the sticky discs from Mac\u2019s chest, feigned a smile. \u201cTry to relax, Mr. Anderson. It may take a little bit before the doctor receives all of your test results.\u201d<\/p>\n

For what seemed like forever, Mac sat motionless on the hospital gurney, a white curtain drawn around him. I hope it isn\u2019t my heart, he thought, the kids are still so young and they need\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cWho do we have in number four?\u201d a female voice asked just outside of Mac\u2019s alcove.<\/p>\n

Mac froze to listen in.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome guy who came in complaining of chest pains,\u201d another voice answered at a strained whisper. \u201cTest results show nothing. Just another anxiety attack.\u201d<\/p>\n

No way, Mac thought, not knowing whether he should feel insulted or relieved.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike we have time to deal with that crap,\u201d the first voice said. \u201cCan you imagine if men had to give birth?\u201d<\/p>\n

Both ladies laughed.<\/p>\n

No friggin\u2019 way, Mac thought before picturing his wife\u2019s frightened face. She must be worried sick. But I can\u2019t call her without talking to the doctor. She\u2019d\u2026<\/p>\n

The curtain snapped open, revealing a young man in a white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck.<\/p>\n

This kid can\u2019t be a doctor, Mac thought, the world suddenly feeling like it had been turned upside down.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour heart is fine, Mr. Anderson,\u201d the doctor quickly reported, his eyes on his clipboard. \u201cI\u2019m fairly certain you suffered a panic attack.\u201d He looked up and grinned, but even his smile was rushed. \u201cSometimes the symptoms can mirror serious physical ailments.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mac was confused, almost disappointed. So, what I experienced wasn\u2019t serious? he asked in his head.<\/p>\n

The young man scribbled something onto a small square pad, tore off the top sheet and handed it to Mac. \u201cThis\u2019ll make you feel better,\u201d he said, prescribing a sedative that promised to render Mac more useless than the alleged attack.<\/p>\n

\u201cUmmm\u2026okay,\u201d Mac said, his face burning red.<\/p>\n

The doctor nodded. \u201cStress is the number one cause of these symptoms,\u201d he concluded. \u201cDo you have someone you can talk to?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mac returned the nod, thinking, I need to get the hell out of here. Although he appreciated the concern, he was mired in a state of disbelief. I\u2019m a master of the corporate rat race, he thought, unable to accept the medicine man\u2019s spiel. If anyone knows how to survive stress, it\u2019s me.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s great,\u201d the doctor said, vanishing as quickly as he\u2019d appeared.<\/p>\n

My problem is physical, Mac confirmed in his head, it has to be. He finished tying his shoes.<\/p>\n

Pulling back the curtain, he was met by the stare of several female nurses. He quickly applied his false mask of strength and smiled. A panic attack, he repeated to himself. When put into words, the possibility was chilling.<\/p>\n

The nurses smiled back, each one of them wearing the same judgmental smirk.<\/p>\n

With his jacket tucked under his arm, Mac started down the hallway. Sure, he thought, I have plenty of people I can talk to. He pulled open the door that led back into the crowded waiting room. That is, if I actually thought it was anxiety.<\/p>\n

\u29dd<\/p>\n

Mac sat in the parking lot for a few long minutes, attempting to process the strange events of the last several days. Although he felt physically tired, there weren\u2019t any symptoms or residual effects of the awful episodes he\u2019d experienced\u2014not a trace of the paralyzing terror I felt. And they just came out of the blue. He shook his head. How can it not be physical? He thought about the current state of his life. Work is work, it\u2019s always going to come with a level of stress, but that\u2019s nothing out of the ordinary. He shook his head again. I just don\u2019t get it. He grabbed his cell phone and called Jen. \u201cHi, it\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay?\u201d she asked, the worry in her voice making him feel worse.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine, babe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine?\u201d she said, confused. \u201cWhat did the doctor say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said it\u2019s not my heart.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, thank God.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her reaction\u2014although completely understandable\u2014struck him funny, making him feel like the boy who cried wolf.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what is it then?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

He hesitated, feeling oddly embarrassed to share the unbelievable diagnosis.<\/p>\n

\u201cMac?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe doctor thinks it was a\u2026a panic attack.\u201d<\/p>\n

This time, she paused. \u201cA panic attack?\u201d she repeated, clearly searching for more words. Then, as a born problem solver, she initiated her usual barrage of questions. \u201cDid they give you something for it? Is there any follow up?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, and maybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe gave me pills that I\u2019d rather not take if I don\u2019t need to. And he suggested I go talk to someone.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTalk to someone? You mean like a therapist?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m pretty sure that\u2019s what he meant.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d she said, obviously taken aback. \u201cThen that\u2019s exactly what you should do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there something bothering you I don\u2019t know about, Mac,\u201d she asked, \u201cbecause you can talk to me, too, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, babe. But there\u2019s nothing bothering me, honest.\u201d He took a deep breath. \u201cFor what it\u2019s worth, I don\u2019t buy the anxiety attack diagnosis.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, whatever you were feeling this morning was real enough, right? I could see it in your face. It wouldn\u2019t hurt anything for you to go talk to someone.\u201d She still sounded scared and he hated it.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe not,\u201d he replied, appeasing her. In the back of his head, though, he was already contemplating how much he should continue to share with her\u2014or protect her from. \u201cI need to get to work,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you just take the day off and relax?\u201d she suggested.<\/p>\n

Here we go, he thought. \u201cI wish I could, babe,\u201d he said, \u201cbut we have way too much going on at the office right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd maybe that\u2019s part of your problem,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be fine, Jen,\u201d he promised. \u201cWe\u2019ll talk when I get home, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLove you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I love you,\u201d she said in a tone intended for him to remember it.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Excerpt from Three Shoeboxes by Steven Manchester. Copyright \u00a9 2018 by Steven Manchester. Reproduced with permission from The Story Plant. All rights reserved.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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