Medical Crisis?

It was well after midnight in Pioneer Square, downtown Seattle.

I'm walking the Nightwatch beat in my clerical collar. At the corner of First and Yesler, I see a homeless guy on his back, flopping around like a fish in the bottom of a boat.

Now, having worked for a few years in a health care setting, I've seen lots of people having seizures. This guy looked like he was having a tonic-clonic episode.

I lean over him. "Hey, buddy! Buddy! You all right?"

Now, if he WAS having a seizure, he's not going to speak to me, so I'm not sure what I thought. His eyes were closed and by this time he's jerking, jerking, jerking.

He opens one eye and looks at me, hovering over him, worried.

"I'm . . . just. . . working. . . on. . . my. . . abs."

Alrighty then. . . on to the next crisis.