Super Shannon, Lifesaver
In an effort to continue being a super fabulous person, I volunteered to fill one of the “certified CPR/AED employee” slots for my floor. Every floor in our three buildings has to have two certified people. The class was this morning, and was actually pretty interesting.
The dummies freaked me out a bit, with their dead eyes and slack jawed open mouths. They kinda looked like the creepy lady from the Grudge, if she was bald. And didn’t have arms and legs. Or boobs. And instead of making that creepy creaking noise she makes, they made farty noises if you compressed the chest before the “lungs” deflated. But I digress.
I was unprepared for all the touching that goes on in the class, though… I assumed it would be all dummy work and video-watching. I don’t think twice about touching someone’s arm or something while I’m talking to emphasize a point, but that’s it. I don’t like people, especially people I don’t know, crowding against me. But in this class, you pair up and one of you lays flat on the ground, while the other hunches over you, turns you over, moves your arms and legs around, hovers over your face, etc. I hated it. It took all my self-control not to shriek, “omg stop TOUCHING ME. Bad touch, lady, BAD TOUCH!”
I also picked the wrong shirt to wear, apparently, because all the rolling around on the floor pulled the neckline halfway down my bra before I noticed it. So I basically flashed my bra and a bunch of cleavage to whoever happened to look over at that moment. Nice. I wasn’t even wearing a pretty bra.
So I learned how tiring CPR is, and how you should keep an eye on a person in shock because they’re likely to barf everywhere, and that it’s a bad idea to touch a person when an AED is doing its thang, and that apparently nipple piercings are a-OK in the defibrillator world (I would have thought they'd catch the shock arc and burn your nipples off). I also popped half my dummy-guy’s ribcage off and kept forgetting and leaving the plastic anti-spit-swap sheet over his face, thus blocking his airways. Yeah, it’s probably best to not go into cardiac arrest around me.
The dummies freaked me out a bit, with their dead eyes and slack jawed open mouths. They kinda looked like the creepy lady from the Grudge, if she was bald. And didn’t have arms and legs. Or boobs. And instead of making that creepy creaking noise she makes, they made farty noises if you compressed the chest before the “lungs” deflated. But I digress.
I was unprepared for all the touching that goes on in the class, though… I assumed it would be all dummy work and video-watching. I don’t think twice about touching someone’s arm or something while I’m talking to emphasize a point, but that’s it. I don’t like people, especially people I don’t know, crowding against me. But in this class, you pair up and one of you lays flat on the ground, while the other hunches over you, turns you over, moves your arms and legs around, hovers over your face, etc. I hated it. It took all my self-control not to shriek, “omg stop TOUCHING ME. Bad touch, lady, BAD TOUCH!”
I also picked the wrong shirt to wear, apparently, because all the rolling around on the floor pulled the neckline halfway down my bra before I noticed it. So I basically flashed my bra and a bunch of cleavage to whoever happened to look over at that moment. Nice. I wasn’t even wearing a pretty bra.
So I learned how tiring CPR is, and how you should keep an eye on a person in shock because they’re likely to barf everywhere, and that it’s a bad idea to touch a person when an AED is doing its thang, and that apparently nipple piercings are a-OK in the defibrillator world (I would have thought they'd catch the shock arc and burn your nipples off). I also popped half my dummy-guy’s ribcage off and kept forgetting and leaving the plastic anti-spit-swap sheet over his face, thus blocking his airways. Yeah, it’s probably best to not go into cardiac arrest around me.