Gay Games blog report, Aug. 2

This morning at the hotel breakfast, I was enjoying my first sausage of the day when the Muslim woman next to me had a seizure.

She lost consciousness and the woman with her was helpless to assist her. The dining room was full of peple from around the world and no one moved from their chair to help. I spit out my sausage and ran over to assist her. In my best Lauren Bacall morning voice, I tried coaxing her awake. Finally, after waving my Purell hand sanitizer under her nose, she regained consciousness.

The poor woman was horrified to find a tan white man hovering over her. I was glad I had trimmed my nose hairs that morning. She could not feel her legs and her skin was clammy, so I cried out for a wet towel. I reached for the woman’s headress, gave a nervous look to the friend, then pulled it off to apply the wet towel. Check that maneuver off my bucket list.

The paramedics eventually arrived and the woman was found to be fine. The D.C. soccer players and runners congratulated me on my performance. I may not be a doctor, but I play one on the weekends.