lunch break

He blinked at me and pointed to his face.

His face was frozen, mouth agape.

Talking to me with his eyes, it took me seconds to realize what he was communicating.

It was a seizure.

A small one, like his mom warned us about.

There was drool parading down his mouth like a little faucet, left on by accident.

I whisked him down the hall, to a more private spot, totally leaving my class to their turn and talks, by themselves.  (totally against the law, right?)

But I didn’t care.

I had a life to save… or cushion, or buffer…

It was over in about 2 minutes.

I cried afterwards, in my car, in the lot behind the school,  for my whole lunch.


9 thoughts on “lunch break

  1. wow…i feel you on this! my dog had a brain tumor before she passed, and I was witness to many seizures (and cried during – they are very scary!) good job handling this in a classroom!

  2. For me the poem ends, “I cried afterwards, in my car, in the lot behind the school, for my whole lunch.”

    Killer poem. I see the speaker in the car, alone in the lot behind the school.

  3. Glad you were there to help a kid in a very tough time. I wish people knew what we really do! You definitely earned your lunch break (and also a special treat after work!)

  4. Add “medical support” to your job description today. It is scary to witness, as well as to be in charge of providing help. I hope your student–and you–are okay!

  5. Oh my goodness! You are such a brave person! It takes a lot to be able to remain that calm and take care of your student. I would have panicked and started crying right there! Great job!

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