Flashes of Panic

I was standing near the 6-mile mark, waiting to meet up and head for home. I was idly watching the runners stream by.

One of them bobbled. Wavered. Weaved. Started for the pavement. The man behind her caught her, held her up. The spectators to my right stepped out and grabbed her arms. I hurried to unfold my chair, and they dropped her in it.

We poured water on her and fetched a policeman from the corner. He radioed for medical staff. He asked her her name (which she knew) and the date (which she didn’t.) She got progressively less lucid as we watered her and waited for aid. We couldn’t let her drink, because if she was hyponatremic we could make her worse. One of the samaritans was a lifeguard.

The medical staff arrived, and I decided to abandon the chair. As I looked back, I saw that she was cramping, or something, moving convulsively. As we headed to the car, the ambulance was coming.

I don’t know the end of the story. I hope it’s good.