Ratbag granny

Oh, oh, and there's Mr. Parkinsons wobbling by the side of the bridge, talking to the deaf man with the daschund. Please don't let him say it, I'm thinking.
"Hey! Long time no see."
I have to get off the bike as he is blocking the entrance to the wooden bridge. He is looking at the deaf man who always gives me a cheery silent hello.
"We thought she had died," says Mr. Parkinsons. "All laid out on the wall like that."
"Really?" the deaf man nods.
"White as a sheet. We had to hold her legs in the air and somebody gave her some water."
"Really?" The deaf man looks concerned.
"I'm fine, " I say.
"Was it your heart?" Mr. Parkinsons questions.
"No...actually (my heart is starting to speed up here) actually it was nothing...a mild panic attack." I say.
"Oh right...because we all thought you had died because nobody saw you again."
"I hate panic attacks," the deaf man says softly. "You never know when it's going to happen."
"Or was it not water? Was it a fizzy drink?" asks Mr. Parkinsons.