Meg Kissinger: The farther north Verna Schmidt rode that sweltering July day, the more she worried about her son, Paul, back in Milwaukee in his second-story apartment with its sour-smelling carpet and grimy windows.
He'd been falling down and shaking more than usual in recent weeks. Between his diabetes, hypertension and schizophrenia, Paul, 42, was on at least 13 medications and some could be deadly in the heat — especially for a man who stood 6-feet-2 and weighed 265 pounds.
He could not feel the heat the way most people do. The medicine he took to stop his hallucinations interfered with his body's ability to sweat. His blood vessels would stay dilated. When that happens, pressure can drop…
Keep reading with a membership
This story is for Gangrey members. Join to read it in full, unlock the archive, and support narrative nonfiction.
Become a MemberAlready a member? Sign in



Leave a comment