Universal Precautions

This morning I had two students in my office, one waiting to go home with pinkeye and the other one also waiting to be picked up as he was feeling ill. The secretaries placed a third outside the door to my office, also waiting for her ride to pick her up as she wasn't feeling well. A fourth student came in to get something to package a tooth in (a "tooth" necklace, yes, they make such a thing), and while he and I were packing it up the third student in the doorway vomited. And by vomited, I mean vomited. [Stop reading now if graphic descriptions of bodily fluids make you ill.] 

I actually thought chocolate milk had spilled, until I smelled it. There was a thick layer splattered around the girl, right at the entry to my office, and some had dribbled onto her pants, down her leg, and onto her shoes. The largest puddle was so thick a paper towel wouldn't stand a chance. The secretary called for the custodian to clean up, and I kept the students in my office in so they wouldn't step in the vomit, or get sick themselves from smelling it, as one green-looking boy said he might. 

Next thing I know, the principal - who has never been particularly warm toward me - stepped over the vomit, and barged into my office to ask me what was going on. I explained what each of the students were doing in my office, including the one that came in for his tooth but was now stuck due to the vomit at the doorway, and that parents had already been notified for everyone. The principal's response: "You need to prioritize a little better," and an eye roll to boot. She was apparently quite irritated that I had not cleaned up the vomit. 

First of all, I don't need eyes rolled at me. We're adults. But second of all, I'm not going to apologize for waiting for the custodian. I do not have the materials in my office to clean up a vomit puddle that size. (And even if I did, I'd still make the kids in my office wait to step on the floor until the custodian got there.) I do not have access to cleaning solutions, rags, mops, or the stuff that you sprinkle on puddles to help mop them up. So, no lady, I will not get on my hands and knees and wipe up a sea of vomit, exposing myself to who knows what.