Recount to Lawyer

You begin to tell your story, about the place that you used to call home. Your remember your family farm -- land that had been passed down for generations. You remember your daughters, their smiling faces asking you to pick them up and twirl them around, how you happy you had been to see them grow up. You remember your wife, hoping to be with her as she grew old. Nothing pained you more than to leave them behind.

But after the third year of unfarmable land, after the third year with no food on the table, no clean water, and no work downtown, you and your wife both knew that you would have to leave.

You pause. You want to continue, to tell the staff member what happened once you left, but you start to choke on your words. You feel your heart pounding in your chest, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, and before you muster the courage to go on, the room starts to spin.

The staff member gives you a minute to catch your breath. She tells you that you can try again tomorrow.

What do you do?