Romans & histoires The Lungs Are Blank To The Ribs

“No grunting. No flaring. Good air entry.” His lungs expanded evenly. No distress. No retractions at the base of his ribs. Just small, determined breaths that sounded like quiet sighs. His nostrils barely moved. His mouth opened once in a tiny, offended oval, then closed again as if he had decided the world could wait until he understood it.

Then, she feels that she is too good for this. As I shift my focus to the others, I notice Kairi, who is repeatedly attacking the mannequin with tired, wide sea-blue eyes. It's unbelievable that her physical state escaped my notice. It was so clear, now that I understood about her lung condition. Her chest is moving so quickly that I'm afraid her rib cage would come out, and her breaths rasp above the others. Still, when she strikes again and again and again, I can't help but be in awe of her.

even though I couldn’t see his face, I could tell he was growling through clenched teeth. Blake flung his hands in the air and shook his head. “Fine! You don’t want to go too close to the spine, it’s better to go closer to the side where the space between the ribs is wider. Of course, this way you also have to go through the lung, but even if you don’t reach the heart, a punctured lung will slow your opponent significantly.” “And it would be beneficial if I could access my claws without fully shifting to do that,” I sighed.

Rosie I can’t breathe… It feels like my lungs have melted to form a narrow tube, and whatever oxygen is left seems stuck somewhere in my chest, a sharp, painful stab digging in my chest. My eyes fly open, and thick black darkness shrouds my vision. Heavy pants echo through the room, perspiration trickling down my already slick back. I tap the bed, but all I feel is nothing… air and nothing.

"Get up. Again." "You... you really didn't lie about the 'not going easy' part," I wheezed, rubbing my chest as I forced myself back into a defensive stance. Each breath felt like swallowing broken glass. My ribs throbbed with a deep, bone-deep ache that promised spectacular bruises later.

I feel my ribs bust and a growl of pain vibrates hugely from my throat as I cough out blood. I fight the blackness creeping into my vision but that's nearly impossible as gravity takes effect, slamming my eyes close. . . TBC.

The bruise blooming across his left ribs was ugly — deep purple and angry red at the edges. “Jesus,” I whispered, gently pressing my fingers around the area. He didn’t flinch, but his breath hitched. “This looks bad. You could have a cracked rib.” “It’s not broken.” “You don’t know that.” I grabbed the first-aid kit from the cabinet and returned, standing between his legs as he remained seated. “Take a deep breath.” He did, eyes never leaving my face. “Does that hurt?” “Only when I breathe,” he said dryly.

Black puffer jacket, black boots. Air left my lungs so fast my knees almost followed. I squeezed my eyes shut, opened them again. He was still there, his back to me.

Everything suddenly became completely blurry as ribs cracked. I felt a sharp pain immediately engulf my chest, causing me to cough and splutter, a stream of blood quickly fell out of my lips and down my chin. I think my bone had pierced my lung somehow. My breath was getting more and more difficult to catch. I knelt there attempting to even out my breathing when my neck cracked I screamed and shouted shaking my head hoping the pain would stop if I asked it, but it was cruelly unrelenting.

As gently as I can, wishing for straps or a gurney, I roll him off of Arthur. Good news, the jagged metal in Arthur’s neck is probably responsible for most of the blood. Bad news, Ryan’s been shot on his left side, in a spot that could easily be heart or lungs or nothing particularly deadly. Focus, Lily! RPM! R is for respiration. I put a hand on Ryan’s chest and pray. The faintest ghost of pressure raises my hand. He’s breathing! Not as much or as well as I’d like, but some. It’s not over yet.