Seizure

I awoke with a sense of foreboding, pecking at my mind like a woodpecker. I came home from work and saw that my husband was still not feeling well.   As soon as I walk in the door, I reach for the mute button on the remote to escape the predictably depressing tone of the evening news.   There is still a trace scent of the chicken noodle soup Jesse must have managed to cook. I walk over to the couch and see Jesse’s big brown eyes are half mass. I was just about to ask how he was feeling, when I was interrupted by an eerie whimpering sound. In a scratchy and whiny voice, he told me that his head was throbbing immensely.
I was a bit taken back as his eyes swelled up with tears. I situated myself behind his head on the cushy arm of the couch. He was lying on his back with his legs stretched out. I started massaging his temples when all of a sudden his arm jerked to the right, knocking over his water glass. Before I could react to the water cascading down the rocky tiles of the coffee table, his legs and torso folded up and he began convulsing.   I struggled to lift his trembling torso so I could slide underneath him.   I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening.  
I felt helpless and frustrated. The one person I could count on for anything was lying in my arms, growing paler by the second. His convulsing increased rapidly as the whites of his eyes danced back and forth in their sockets. His teeth were chattering as white frothy foam bubbled out of his mouth like a rabid dog.   All I could do was scream his name. He began choking on the foam, so I did the best I could to turn him on his side. What was probably only a few minutes felt like hours. I finally felt the presence of mind to take action. I reached across his shaking body to grab the phone. It was soaking wet from the water spill, so I gave it a quick wipe with my shirt. I took a deep breath and dialed 911.
I felt like I was watching someone else experience this. After hearing the operator’s voice, I...