His breath would quicken and slow. Then stop for about fifteen seconds, which scared me out of my wits. He threw up again, which also worried me since he hadn't eaten much. He groaned softly. 

The doctor said he might be having a heart attack, and asked me if he'd had any extra physical or emotional stress, to which I replied that yes, yes in fact he did.

Every once in a while he would cough up about a half a cup of blood. the doctor had him breathing pure oxygen when he got progressively worse. It seemed like a downward spiral of poor health.

He told me he was dizzy multiple times, and his eyes were drooping but he didn't want to fall asleep, worried he'd have the nightmare again.

"Once your breath quickens I'll try to wake you up," I told him. "but you need rest"

He took a deep breath and closed his heavy eyelids. In seconds he was fast asleep, but three minutes later his eyes opened. I thought he woke up, but then remembered he always slept with his eyes open. His breath evened.

~~~

I watched him sleep for over twelve hours, shocking myself with how much patience I had.

He slowly woke up, His eyes opening and closing several times before finally staying open.

"Did you sleep okay?"

He smiled. "I dreamt of me and Linda on our farm in Scotland. It was a good dream. And then I dreamt of you and me on our fifth anniversary. The best dreams I've had in a long time."

"You made me chocolate chip pancakes," I remembered. 

He smiled again before looking closer at my face. "Did you get any sleep, Love?"

"No, I wanted to make sure you slept soundly. I got sleep yesterday," he gave me a slightly concerned look. "I'm alright," I assured him. "You look a lot better," I was absolutely delighted.