Saving a Life
I had never been so scared. It was completely up to me. No one else was home, and no one was answering their phones. I yearned for my parents to be there. They were the ones that knew how to deal with it. They were the ones that had the special training. I only ever tagged along because I wasn't allowed to stay at the house alone.
While in a deep sleep, a strange noise creeped into in an otherwise run of the mill dream. It was an unfamiliar noise like a groan but more frantic and chaotic. A noise so foreign to my ears that it could only be originating from the dream its self. Unfortunately it persisted and the volatile nature of the noise caused me to become aware of my conscious surroundings. I opened my eyes and expected the dream to have dissipated but the noise was suddenly more clear, more chaotic and far more disturbing then it had been moments ago in my dream. My heart burst into a frantic pulse. The noise was not from the dream. It was coming from outside my bedroom. I feared the worst.
My Brother was having a diabetic seizure and he needed medical attention immediately. I ran down stairs and called out to my parents. "Help! Andy needs help!" Silence. "Mom! Dad! MOM!! DAD!!" Silence. Nearly panicked, I dialed both of my parents' number's numbers over and over. I never got a response. I was completely alone in the house. My brother needed help and I didn't know how to use the special glucagon syringe that would bring his blood sugar level out of the danger zone.
I ran back upstairs to check on Andy. The grotesque noises and impossible movements continued. I thought maybe I should hold him steady and somehow calm him down but as soon as I approached him he swung his arms at me with a primal fear in his eyes that I had never seen. I had to do something. I couldn't let my brother remain in this condition; I couldn't let my brother die.
The only other solution was to get him to eat something sugary. This seemed impossible because he wouldn't stop convulsing and batting at anything that got close to him . He certainly couldn't be given something to take a bite of , nor was it possible to get him to drink a soda or anything else. I needed something that could be forced into his mouth but not able to choke him. I ran back down stairs and I scoured the pantry looking for something to jump out at me. After 10 tenminutes I still had no idea how I was going to get sugar into him. I considered dumping sugar all over his face in the hopes that some would make it into his mouth, but I was concerned about his eyes and him possibly inhaling it. Then it hit me.
TOASTER STRUDLES!! The toaster strudels had icing packets. Icing was almost pure sugar and I could just smear it all over, and push it into his mouth. He couldn't choke on it because it would dissolve and he wouldn't have to do anything except swallow. It wasn't a sure bet but I was hoping that even when having a seizure salivation and swallowing reflexes would kick in with out him needing to think about it. I got all the packets and ran up stairs to his room. While dodging his flailing arms I would make quick jabs and smear right on his lips. Luckily for whatever reason even while in his condition he kept trying to lick his lips free of the icing I kept rubbing all over his mouth. Fifteen to twenty minutes later his blood sugar was fine, and he was completely coherent, and he didn't remember a thing.
To him it never happened. He never had the adrenaline rush, he never consciously stared death in the face, he never felt danger, and he never made that special kind of vivid memory that plays back in your head over and over, so vividly that you smell it. In the mind of my brother, the most powerful and real experience I share with him is but a distant dream, an impossible fairy tale.
While in a deep sleep, a strange noise creeped into in an otherwise run of the mill dream. It was an unfamiliar noise like a groan but more frantic and chaotic. A noise so foreign to my ears that it could only be originating from the dream its self. Unfortunately it persisted and the volatile nature of the noise caused me to become aware of my conscious surroundings. I opened my eyes and expected the dream to have dissipated but the noise was suddenly more clear, more chaotic and far more disturbing then it had been moments ago in my dream. My heart burst into a frantic pulse. The noise was not from the dream. It was coming from outside my bedroom. I feared the worst.
My Brother was having a diabetic seizure and he needed medical attention immediately. I ran down stairs and called out to my parents. "Help! Andy needs help!" Silence. "Mom! Dad! MOM!! DAD!!" Silence. Nearly panicked, I dialed both of my parents' number's numbers over and over. I never got a response. I was completely alone in the house. My brother needed help and I didn't know how to use the special glucagon syringe that would bring his blood sugar level out of the danger zone.
I ran back upstairs to check on Andy. The grotesque noises and impossible movements continued. I thought maybe I should hold him steady and somehow calm him down but as soon as I approached him he swung his arms at me with a primal fear in his eyes that I had never seen. I had to do something. I couldn't let my brother remain in this condition; I couldn't let my brother die.
The only other solution was to get him to eat something sugary. This seemed impossible because he wouldn't stop convulsing and batting at anything that got close to him . He certainly couldn't be given something to take a bite of , nor was it possible to get him to drink a soda or anything else. I needed something that could be forced into his mouth but not able to choke him. I ran back down stairs and I scoured the pantry looking for something to jump out at me. After 10 tenminutes I still had no idea how I was going to get sugar into him. I considered dumping sugar all over his face in the hopes that some would make it into his mouth, but I was concerned about his eyes and him possibly inhaling it. Then it hit me.
TOASTER STRUDLES!! The toaster strudels had icing packets. Icing was almost pure sugar and I could just smear it all over, and push it into his mouth. He couldn't choke on it because it would dissolve and he wouldn't have to do anything except swallow. It wasn't a sure bet but I was hoping that even when having a seizure salivation and swallowing reflexes would kick in with out him needing to think about it. I got all the packets and ran up stairs to his room. While dodging his flailing arms I would make quick jabs and smear right on his lips. Luckily for whatever reason even while in his condition he kept trying to lick his lips free of the icing I kept rubbing all over his mouth. Fifteen to twenty minutes later his blood sugar was fine, and he was completely coherent, and he didn't remember a thing.
To him it never happened. He never had the adrenaline rush, he never consciously stared death in the face, he never felt danger, and he never made that special kind of vivid memory that plays back in your head over and over, so vividly that you smell it. In the mind of my brother, the most powerful and real experience I share with him is but a distant dream, an impossible fairy tale.