So the Missus and I decided to renew our CPR certifications after - what? - twenty years? Something on that order of magnitude. It’s a skill that you never hope to have a need for, but sometimes you have to deal with the unexpected.
And so we spent an hour in the local middle school gymnasium, crouched over our Rescusci-Dummies, mashing their plasticated chests with the requisite cycles of thirty chest compressions followed by two breaths, repeat ad infinitum.
Not much has changed in twenty years, but enough to be significant. One big difference: easier access to AED (automated external defibrillator) devices. By all means, if you should choose to go into cardiac arrest, try to do it where your buddies can find an AED pronto.
The course was just the right length to allow us all to demonstrate our proficiency in the necessary skill set, yet not enough to get completely boring. And the only complaint I can come up with is that the (personable and otherwise skilled) instructor could somehow not summon up enough verbal dexterity to pronounce the word “defibrillator” correctly.
It’s a minor quibble, sure... but I’m not sure whether it inspires the highest levels of confidence when your CPR instructor insists on calling the damn thing a “defibulator.”
(Am I just being an asshole? You decide.)
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
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10 comments:
...sounds like a "Southern" thing??
Actually, no. One of my dad's friends - Northern to the core - says it the exact same way. Heh.
Defibulators are great. I always break out the big-ass Defib paddles when I sense someone is lying to me, and then -- wham -- I Defib the hell out of them. Works better than truth serum, and with none of the effects of a hangover.
You also need to know how to do the Heimlich Maneuver, correctly. Saved my life once.
Yabu, that's part of CPR training... except they don't call it the Heimlich maneuver any more. Why, I don't know. I guess they figured, why should this dude Heimlich get all the glory?
In a law office where I once worked one of the partners suffered a massive heart attack while taking a drink of coffee at his desk just after 8:00 one morning.
He was discovered a few minutes later, on the floor (and then we heard the spookiest, most strained internal page for an office manager ever).
It was too late.
From that point on there was a defibrillator and at least three people trained and assigned who knew how to use it, on every floor, at all times.
Actually, honey, I was recertified twice since the last tine you were :-)
SWMBO
Ha! I should never comment on blogs until I've finished my second cup of coffee.
I copied and pasted your spelling out of laziness, and just realized I copied the wrong one.
Oops. (I say that a lot.)
Gee, Freddie... you sure? I don't see anything in your comment that would justify an "oops."
I thought a "defibulator" was used to remove leg bones.
When I updated my AHA CPR card a couple months ago, the instructor bluntly informed us that, with or without an AED, our chances of saving a guy are very low. Better than nothing, to be sure, but please don't expect too much. (Gee, thanks!)
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