I flew from Detroit to Denver. I await my row's turn to depart. Carrying my backpack and a bag in my hand I quickly feel out of breath. I step onto the tunnel connecting to the terminal and I have to stop. I could not catch my breath. I felt pressure to move on, but I needed to pause and the tunnel was wide enough to let people by. I stopped briefly, but I really did not catch my breath. I was feeling anxious because of that.
I made it to the gate and the place was packed. I needed a place to sit down. The first place I saw was arm of a chair. Linda suggested that she go to the luggage pick up and I come along. That sounded great because I could go my own pace. I only had my carry-on backpack. I did stop a few times. I went on the moving floor. Linda found her bag and mine happened to be there. She went off to hold the driver. I did make it down the 15 entry doors and I could not have walked further. I collapsed in the second row and fell asleep. It was not until the next morning when I saw my pulse ox if 88 that I figured the cause of my difficulty the night before.
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