Mark Long Can't Breath  I'm at home. My friend Mark Long is there, alive. He can't breath. I enter a room where my mom and another woman are attending to him. I dial 000, which is the emergency number in New South Wales, and talk to my dad. I get him on the phone, and we talk quickly: I tell him Mark can't breath right, and he asks me questions about what is happening. I ask the others, and Mark answers a couple questions about his critical condition. My brother Wally is there. Wally may have to perform a tracheotomy on Mark, so Mark can breath. Then Mark starts to breath okay. I talk to my mom and the other woman. I tell them about my back pain the last three days, and the sharp, stinging chest pain I just experienced a little while ago this night. There seems to be many similarities.