Cringe-worthy

At the Special Place, there is a severely epileptic (and also adorable and sweet) student that requires Ativan in case of a seizure. Yes, you read that right: she takes Ativan orally at the onset of a seizure so as to stop it from continuing. Apparently it is not as nutty as it sounds; she'll begin a seizure, then it will pause momentarily, long enough to have her take the Ativan. (When I was first given the notes on this student, all I could wonder was how in the world we were going to give an oral medication during a tonic clonic seizure, as it was originally described to me.) 

After much discussion with our nursing coordinator, we decided that the medication could and should indeed be kept in a locked cabinet in the classroom in case of emergency. The guardian had already dropped off the Ativan for the student, so once I had a pretty care plan all written up, I brought it and the medication to the teacher. I told the teacher what I had in my hands - he had already volunteered for it to be kept in the classroom, and knew what its purpose would be - and when I said it was the student's Ativan, his response was, "Should I give it to her now?" This as the epileptic student was quietly eating her lunch.

I think my heart stopped momentarily when I heard that, and is the precise reason I *hate* having to allow medication in the classroom. Teachers have other priorities, and health just isn't their first. Needless to say, I gave the teacher and classroom aides a LONNNNNNNNNNG lecture on when and how to give the Ativan, followed by an email with the principal cc'ed including an in depth description of Ativan, its side effects, and a note to please contact the student's guardian to directly discuss the student's behavior during seizures, just so he'd have to listen to it repeated again. Ugh.