“I wondered where Mister Mancini lived and who he might call in case of an emergency.” David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day

I wonder who I might call
in case of an emergency. I know the feeling all too well:
tight chest, something piercing
into the depression between my collar bones;
shallow breath, retreating inward.
But who do I call?

I used to call my tight jaw, teeth grinding away;
I used to call my scabs, picking them off my dry skin;
And I used to call breathlessness, to remind myself that I can breathe just fine.
But now, who do I call?