Later in the afternoon Ma Schmidt woke from a nap. It had been about four hours since her last medicine, so Schmidt gave her two more anxiety pills—prophylactically—ground up in syrup.
Shortly after those pills, she got very agitated again, repeating "I can't breathe! I'm going to die!" over and over again. She decided she had to get away, so she started climbing out of her bed. I was on one side and Schmidt was on the other. So I helped her stand, and then asked "Where now?" We stood there for a few minutes, and then she sat down perched on the bed again. I held her and rubbed her back, telling her that if she calmed down she could breathe better.
After a few more minutes she asked Schmidt to help her back into bed. Then he gave her an anti-nausea medicine to help with any pain in her stomach. He reasoned that this might be part of her distress.
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