Later, I saw him sitting in his van in the parking lot. He apologized for leaving and explained that he'd had a panic attack in the middle of class. He couldn't leave the campus yet, he said. He was still feeling shaky. He was worried it might be affecting his work. He was seeing a doctor for it, taking pills - but he was still getting two or three panic attacks every week.
I knew about panic attacks. I'd had several years of them when my post-traumatic stress kicked in, but this didn't sound trauma-related.
"Sounds like maybe you should play hockey." I said.
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