to the pastor
who saw me mid-panic attack
outside the Methodist Hospital of Chicago
in Ravenswood, while I called my best friend
on the phone to feel calmer.
Pastors already have enough to worry about—
restocking communion,
picking up the dry cleaning,
the rapture—
and this one was surely on his way
to visit some poor person in the hospital,
though I’m not sure if that’s allowed right now.
I’d like to apologize to my Uber driver
who might have noticed the red puffiness
around my eyes when I asked her if I could put
the desk chair I just picked up from a lady
down the street in the trunk. She didn’t know
she was the second one I ordered—the first guy
drove away when I couldn’t haul the chair down
the block fast enough. She helped me load the chair
in and thank god it fit.
After the panic attack and before she picked me up,
I saw someone on a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance.
The tears came easily, but probably because of the panic attack.
Kate is an undergraduate studying English with a creative writing concentration. She is a peer writing tutor at the University Center for Writing-based Learning and co-facilitates Writers Guild. She is from San Antonio, Texas, and lives in Lakeview, Chicago.