Dear Journal:

Today during my second hour chemistry class, the most horrid thing happened. Well, to be frank, the day was a complete blow out from the get go. I didn’t want to get out of bed at all. I didn’t want to go to school. I tripped up the stairs on my way to first hour and didn’t enjoy our fishbowl discussion. It just really was a sucky kind of day.

Well, going back to chemistry. Trent, one of my fellow classmates, had a grand mal epileptic seizure that lasted about 7 minutes. Mr. McMann followed the protocol as best as he knew how. He looked at me, knowing that I’m in Medical Skills with Mrs. Alicia Brown, RN. He called the front office and I ran to the Med. Skills room to get the proper attire; rubber gloves, a blanket and disinfecting spray. I have never encountered a seizure, but I have been taught very minutely on how to take control of the situation through a babysitting course that I took for what seems like eons ago.

I first realized that this was happening when I saw McMann look at me in a concerned way and then I noticed drool flying about the area up ahead of me. I got up to see what was going on. McMann left the room to get Mrs. Brown. At this point in time Trent was clutching onto the desk, but I could see his muscles loosing control. I got up in an attempt to stop his fall, but tripped on my damn back pack. He fell to the floor with a loud thud and continued convulsing and expelling saliva in massive amounts. The class around me froze in fear. Some ran out of the room to avoid watching the horrid scene that was graphically displayed there, though there is no control over seizures and what not.

When Mrs. Brown came in, I went for the supplies. I tried to help her turn him on his side so as to prevent him from drowning on his own saliva. It was quite the struggle. The new kid in class lived in Germany for 9 years and spoke only two English words: yes and no. He was in the way. And the only German I know is shit-head, yes, no, and shut up. Now, those wouldn’t have moved him, but a good nudge in the back did the trick.

After the kid moved, I grabbed Trent’s legs and tried to turn him on his side. Like I said, I haven’t dealt with a seizure in person and I had only had minimal training… I had no clue how difficult it was to move a patient suffering from a grand mal seizure. His legs were stiff as though rigor mortis had set in and violently trembling around the floor.

With the help of Mr. McMann, Mrs. Brown, and me, Trent came to and was taken to the hospital probably. Mrs. Brown said I did a damn good job not really knowing what to do except keeping him from hurting himself and from drowning in his own saliva. And the oddest thing happened too; Carl Stien (arch enemy since 8th grade {really long story}) gave me a pat on the back for a job well done.

All I have to say is that thanking God that the seizure was ephemeral. Any longer and who knows what could happen.

I haven’t much else to talk about, so I must bid you adieu.

Respectfully Yours,

Dustin T. McCauley, Future Doctor of Pharmacology and Internal Medicine