"Ri—an I—be--cha—se," Angelo attempted to say.
"Shh, shh, don't speak," I told him. I got the medicine out of my bag and opened the jar. The scent of the ointment in the jar hit my nose almost instantly. It was a very strong smell. It was one I hoped would work for Angelo's asthma. Since asthma was a condition that caused your lungs to constrict and have trouble exchanging air in the body, the medicine I had developed was one that was supposed to open all those blocked airways. I hoped it would work since I hadn't tested it yet.
"Ri—an—da—nge—" he attempted to speak again.
"Angelo, stop trying to talk," I warned him. He was wasting precious energy. I wasn't sure how long ago the attack started, so time was off the essence. The longer an asthma attack the bigger the risk for the patient. I brought the jar his nose and brought my other hand to support the back of his head.
