So Friday was a little exciting.
One of our staff members at school had a seizure.
In front of my class.
As in... they were alone with the teacher... no other adults around.
They thought the teacher was being silly at first, but then they were trying to tell the teacher that they were bleeding and telling them to wake up... but the teacher wouldn't.
Two of my girls went to the office and told the secretaries.
I just happened to be walking down the hall in time to hear Miss Edna say, "Angie! Call 911!" and start shooing my kids out in the hall.
So I hustled them back to class and played counselor for about 45 minutes.
They were pretty freaked out.
I cannot imagine how scary it must have been for them.
I would have been scared to witness that.
I was pretty shook up without even seeing anything.
Several of them thought the teacher was dead.
A few were crying... there were lots of questions... lots of reassuring on my part... promising them again and again that the teacher was not dead... that the teacher would come back to school.
It happened at 9:00 and pretty much consumed the rest of our day.
I would think that they had kind of moved past it, but then someone would start talking about it again and the questions, answers, reassuring would start all over.
The teacher is okay... ended up leaving school with their spouse and spent the day at home resting... planning to be back at school on Tuesday. I've already told the teacher to plan on lots of hugs from my class. And lots of questions.
I was so proud of these kids, though.
They did exactly what they should have... stayed calm... went for help.
I'm sure it's something they aren't going to forget for a long time.
I know I won't forget for awhile.
I love that they knew what to do and I love that they care so much about their teacher.
They are sweet little people.
(I will try to remember that on the days that they are driving me crazy.)