Seizure Queen

He came into the play-ground as he normally did, at a sprint. 

But, he only got about five feet before his eyes glazed-over and his knees buckled.  He dropped down to the, fortunately, padded surface, his knees hitting first.  Then he slumped, as if he'd been shot.

By the time I reached him his five-year-old-body was spasmming, uncontrollably. 

I rolled him onto his left side, as I had learned so many years ago, and made sure his air-ways were clear.  I had been with another child for years who had seizures on a daily basis, and I'd leaned a lot more about seizures than I ever wanted to.

So, I didn't have a second thought on what to do.

The other staff with me, ran to call for a nurse, as I stayed with the child.

His arms and legs both convulsed.  His tiny fists clenching and unclenching.  His back arching.  His head moving up and down. 

A single tear fell from his eye as I rubbed his back and assured him it would be alright.

After what seemed an eternity, the spasms calmed and his breathing became more steady.

He moaned.

By the time the nurse arrived, he was through the worst of it.  He was just a limp five-year-old who had just had his entire body racked by a massive seizure.  He was exhausted.

We moved him from the play-ground to the classroom, placing him on a bed and covering him with a blanket.  The nurse had called for an ambulance, and everything seemed to be fine, for the moment.

You don't have time to think at those moments.  You have to act.

And, then, you have to carry-on.

After all, it's only Tuesday.