It Was All Going So Poorly and Then the Blood Poured Out

This year my sixth period is my most difficult class. They are a sweet group of very immature kids. They have only finished one complete lesson before the bell rang. That means they have stayed late after school every day since September, but one. They just can't seem to stop talking and stay focused. They are like a cauldron of boiling energy just waiting to spill out over the edge. They are by no means bad kids, they are kind and loving and love me, but they have no idea how to be good students. I direct them in this daily, but it doesn't seem to stick.

Today started and I knew that it would be one of those days were I was directing and redirecting a thousand times and I would potentially lose my voice and my patience. I began class with an activity and after explaining for 5-7 minutes in detail, half the class still didn't know what to do. I went to those groups and explained it again and after another 10 minutes or so, was ready to begin the discussion that would explain the purpose of the activity. After another 3 minutes or so we finally started to get to some meaty information (now about 5 minutes behind the other classes I had taught). Kids were generally settling down and focusing and understanding.

One boy was not participating with his partner and after several reminders was slowly frustrating his capable partner, Bob. The class started to get loud and I knew we were at a breaking point. If I didn't get them to quiet down immediately, there was no hope in finishing the lesson. As I was quieting them down, Bob asked to go to the restroom (a common request when real work is at hand). I told him no and passed out the papers for their notes. Suddenly blood spewed (and I mean spewed) from Bob's nose. He stood up (bleeding all over his desk and shirt) and tried to go to the supply closet. I told him he could totally go to the bathroom. I grabbed some napkins to hand him as he was going outside and specifically said, "Don't touch anything on his desk!" I stepped outside to give him the napkins and apologized for not letting him go to the bathroom earlier.

In the 3 seconds it took for me to do this, Bob's partner was touching the bloody paper on the desk! I screamed for him to stop. All I could think of was all the communicable diseases that this kids could potentially get by handling someone's blood. I said sternly, "Are you trained in how to properly handle blood? That is so dangerous!!" I think he was trying to be helpful and was using Bob's note paper to wipe up the desk.

I then did the only thing I could do - I tried to rescue my failing lesson. I kept to my script as I donned gloves and napkins, and Clorox wipes and cleaned and disposed of the blood. Bless their hearts, but the kids were not listening to a word I had to say about cups and pints. "You look like a doctor!" "Don't doctors get paid a lot?" "Doctors get paid more than teachers." "You did a good job cleaning that up, you should be a doctor."

I did the best I could. Bob returned with blood all over his shirt and then proceeded to take all of his notes. I think we can only be expected to handle so much and there was not much more anyone could do. I guess in this class, when it bleeds, it pours.