My first aid experience as a school mother

Apart from cleaning a few scrapes and tending to a few minor burns, I never had reason to carry out first aid until I was in my final year in secondary school.

Source
I had 8 school daughters and because of that, I had to learn to be everything.

It was easy for the rest of my colleagues who had 2 or 3 daughters at most but because some of my girls ran away from their original school mothers, I ended up being the person with the extra load. It was fun, having to deal with their different personalities, learning to love them, and trying to cope with them. It was almost as if for that one year, they were really my children.

That was why when one of them, Mary, came rushing into the SS3 block to call me because my youngest school daughter was having an asthmatic attack, I grabbed my entire belongings and ran after her out of the class, forsaking the chemistry lessons I had against my WAEC exams.

I knew that my youngest school child, Favour was not asthmatic. We had been together for 8 months already and never for once had she exhibited since of asthma. On visiting days, I made sure to meet with every one of their parents or guardians to know how best I could be in tune with the girls’ lives and never had her mother mention asthma as a health condition she suffered.

Upon arriving at the hostel, there was a large number of people around her, someone was trying to fan her with a book, one of my daughters had her head on her lap and the rest of the girls were clamoring to see what was going on.

I had to begin with those unnecessary people around her. I asked all of them to return to their various corners and asked that my other school daughters go about their usual chores.

Then I took her from the girl whose lap she was lying on and made her sit.

Being asthmatic myself, I knew that lying down during an attack was the first mistake.

Since she was gasping for breath and couldn't talk, I asked her best friend who was hanging around how the situation started. She said Favour developed a mild cough the day before and by the next day, it got worse. They were eating in the dining hall when Favour told her that she was running short of breath.

She assisted Favour to the hostel but before they arrived at my corner, she was already weak and unable to walk. So she had to carry her on her back and then ask someone to call me.

I had to apply balm to her chest, feet, and palms to warm them up because they were very cold, and then I asked her to take some warm water to moisten up her mouth and chest. I asked Mary to help take off her clothes and dress her up in her housewear because that was way freer. I knew that she needed all the space she could get at that time.

Then I went to my drug box and administered two tablets of Piriton. I knew that would relax her lungs and help her breathe better from our hostel to the clinic, then I asked for her to be placed on my back and we started to the clinic for proper medication.

By the time we were at the boys' hostel which was closer to the clinic, she was fast asleep on my back. I could almost not move because her weight had tripled so I asked her best friend who followed us to run ahead and get a stretcher from the clinic.

She woke up when we were trying to transfer her to the stretcher and since she insisted that she wanted to walk because she was feeling better, we held her hands and allowed her to walk in between us.

When we arrived at the clinic, the nurse on the seat checked all her vitals and asked if there was anyone with a trace of asthma in their family. She said her late uncle had it briefly before he died.

I knew I could get into trouble for administering drugs to a student but I opened up and told the nurse I had given her some tablets already.

The nurse warned against it, threatening to write a letter to my hostel mistress if I ever did that again.

I didn't get to clean an open wound or fix a broken bone but one of the nurses at the clinic commended me for knowing to administer balm to her chest, palms, and feet then going ahead to risk giving her piriton to subside the breathing strain. Even when she didn't encourage giving her the tablets on my own, she stated that it was instrumental in helping her feel better.

At least she could answer some questions about herself that we didn't have answers to.

Leaving the clinic that day, I prayed no one close to me would need medical aid from me anymore, especially since I was feeling upset that I had been queried when I was only trying to help the situation get better.