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Dunkin Donuts

11/29/07

Dunkin Donuts

Permalink 05:08:20 pm by cassie, Categories: Announcements [A]

This morning, upon awakening, I was greeted by a KingSize headache and a nose completely clogged up to the point of no return. My throat is sore, I sound like a donkey, and my lips are cracked, presumably, from sleeping with my mouth open. I got up, took a shower, then, setting my alarm for an hour later, at 9AM, went back to bed. And slept until 12:15. After I finally got up to the meeting (which I did not miss, thankfully) I went to meet Mark up at work to grab a coffee after the meeting was over. We had a nice peaceful walk to the Dunkins down the block on the main drag of the city. When we finally got to Dunkins and finally ordered our coffees (after the Dunkins guy got it wrong the first time), we had just sat down to eat when Mark heard somebody yell out of our line of sight. Being mostly deaf from stuffed up ears and sinuses, I didn't hear anything, and when Mark got up to see what was going on and I followed him, I found a well-dressed and pretty, well made-up woman convulsing on the floor in front of the counter, her friend or boyfriend speaking her name repeatedly and holding her head as she bucked. Another man in an Indiana Jones hat was crouched by her torso and I kneeled towards her feet to get a look into her eyes and pull her legs out from the gap between the counter and the floor, her heels slapping the tile over and over again.

When I asked if she had ever done this before, had a seizure before, the boyfriend said no. Dunkins boy, at this point, had gone outside and was talking on the phone. He came back in and it sounded like he was on the phone with the manager of the store, but when I asked, he was, in fact, calling 911. The operator was asking questions he didn't know the answer to, and when I asked if he wanted me to talk, Mark said, trying to be helpful, "She's a nurse!" This, of course, made me nervous, knowing that people were going to ask what to do, and knowing that as emergency first aid issues go, seizures are one of those things that you can't do much about besides making sure the person doesn't get injured by their own spasticity and making sure that if it's the first time they've had one, that they get medical follow-up. Dunkins boy didn't hear me, apparently, but instead answered the operator as best as he could. The man in the hat kept saying "She's unresponsive!"

I felt very sad, in that instant. Sad that there was nothing I could do and sad that this poor woman was now surely headed into the dark world of multiple CAT scans, MRIs, brain studies, and the like. Her boyfriend said, "She was under a lot of stress... maybe that's what caused it...?" But I didn't know. I have seen seizures before, multiple times within the hospital and once involving a classmate with epilepsy who had auras and told people that she was going to have one shortly. All these situations required minimal intervention besides safety and placing them in the recovery position. I'd time the seizure, and if they needed their dilantin, so be it, it was there to be used if necessary. But for those people, this sort of thing happens all the time. For this poor girl, there was nothing to do but wait for the ambulance and hope that it stopped before five minutes long.

Suddenly, there were all sorts of stupid-looking people standing around and staring that had come into the place while the action was going on. They didn't help at all, and one lady even stood by the counter, as if ready to order. Dunkins boy stated, in a nervous voice, that he had to stand outside to wait for the ambulance, so, "Uh.. it's just that I'm not going to be able to get anyone any coffee right now or anything..." I sent Mark out to watch for ambulances and Dunkins boy stood and looked more nervous.

Her face lolled towards me, her seizure subsiding, her throat compulsively swallowing multiple times, her pupils dilated and her lips leaking foam, and as we rolled her over onto her side, I wiped off her cheek and put my scarf between her head and the floor. She nodded at our questions in slow motion, her pulses at warp speed. The ambulance finally came, three minutes later, and I stepped back to our table to let people do their job. She finally sat up with help and was ushered out, sleeping, on a stretcher, her boyfriend clutching her purse and jacket and, sweetly, my only-recently knitted and very, very soft scarf.

Life is about moving around in space and time and matter, molecules bumping into one another and cells knitted together in a shell of skin. We're here and then we aren't. God persists. Time persists, in a way, but not in all ways. And then, every once and a while, while we're moving around through the invisible existence of the air we breathe and displace as we walk, we leave little pieces of ourselves behind. Like a scarf that ends up in the hands of someone completely different than it started in. There is no telling what a day may bring. Kiss the ones you love. Serve the Lord your God with every breath. Life is quick.

If only I could live out my own words.

4 comments

Comment from: chera [Visitor] Email
cheraI'm glad you were there.
11/29/07 @ 21:45
Comment from: Charlie [Visitor] Email
CharlieThat lady totally faked just to get your scarf.
11/30/07 @ 18:14
Comment from: Cassie [Visitor] Email
CassieHa! Whatever, Chaz. Poor girl. It was a really nice scarf though...
12/01/07 @ 06:36
Comment from: Charlie [Visitor] Email
CharlieI know, I was admiring it myself.


That's total crap for her though, you're pretty much on for the ride till it ends.
12/01/07 @ 11:20
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I like to multi-task: wife, writer, nurse, Christian, ne'er do well. I do all with equal gusto.

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