Atreyee Poddar
When a person has a seizure, the moment kind of freezes a room. One second everything’s normal, the next—someone collapses, their body no longer theirs. Your instinct might be to panic, intervene, do something dramatic. Resist that urge. What helps is simpler, quieter, and far more practical.
You’re no good to anyone if you spiral. Most seizures look far scarier than they are. The clock is your ally here—many end within a couple of minutes.
Ease them down if they’re upright. Then do a quick sweep: move furniture edges, bags, anything that could turn into an injury mid-convulsion. Think: clear space, not crowd control.
This is the move people forget. Gently roll them onto one side to keep the airway clear. It’s less about precision, more about preventing choking.
Don’t restrain them. Don’t try to “hold them still.” The body will do what it’s doing regardless, and force only adds injury to the mix.
No spoons, no fingers, no water. The old “they’ll swallow their tongue” myth has caused more harm than it ever prevented. Let it go.
Check your phone. If it crosses the five-minute mark, or if one seizure rolls straight into another, that’s your cue to call for emergency help.
If there’s a tight collar, scarf, or tie, loosen it. Then give them a bit of space. Crowds don’t help; oxygen and calm do.
The seizure ending isn’t the end of the story. They may wake up disoriented, exhausted, or shaken. Keep your voice low, your instructions simple, and your presence steady. No rapid-fire questions, no dramatics.