Feb 4

I SHOT THE HEAD OFF THE CPR MANNEQUIN WHAT THE HELL

bitt-better

Feb 4

IM GONNA PISS MYSELF JFC

ok so the last time i got cpr certified was when i was a tiny lil thing in high school to be a lifeguard for the kiddie swim lessons we taught. so its been a minute, yeah?

i am required to be cpr certified in my position at my job, smth that has not been brought up at ALL in the last 3 years ive been here, so i went to retake the course and all that. I went with a coworker, we partnered up and named our dummy Charles because we're cool like that. ended up having to use the table instead of the floor because of my bad knee and recently healed ankle, so we're above everyone else. We get charles ready, and i end up going first as the first responder, so i'm going over the process in my brain. 30 compressions at 100-120BPM, two respirations, AED, etc. etc. I was also remembering how hard it was to do proper compressions in my tiny little body at 14, so I knew it took more force than i thought to get the compressions deep enough, so i prepared to have to use my body weight and fucking send it. But! it turns out, since im not 4'11" anymore it was in fact Not Very Difficult to get past 2 inches, so it was fine and the instructor actually told me to ease up. I did awesome, compressions were deep and at proper rate, gold star for me.

however, my brain did not connect the dots that if the compressions would take less force, so would the respirations. Me at 14 had to use my full lung capacity to get the chest to rise at all, so I, with my full adult lung capacity and 10+ years of competitive swim, vocal training with breath support, and occasional dabble into brass instruments as I make my way around an orchestra, decide that I need to still full blast for the thing to work. i have to save charles, after all, so fucking send it ig. two very fast, very HARD breaths.

charles's chest plate lifts off and resettles incorrectly, i am none the wiser because i am (wrongly) focusing on the fucking little LEDs on the dummy being green instead of actually registering the movement of the chest like youre supposed to. My coworker, however, has noticed that charles might be A Little Fucked Right Now, and tries to get my attention, but i am FOCUSED because you gotta do the full two minutes and all that. so i switch back to the compression.

the chest plate, no longer in proper position to hold the head in place, clicks weirdly, and next thing i know the charles's head fucking LAUNCHES off into the fucking wall, nearly missing another person's head. his chest flipped up off his body and his head is gone and trailing that little plastic bag that the air you breathe into, completely deflated.

i fucking OVERINFLATED the bag to the point where when i did a compression it fucking POPPED and sent the head flying. the class had to stop for a full fucking 15 minutes to get itself together while i melted into my chair in embarassment i wanted to DIE

the instructor was fucking dying she was all like, 'ok you remember when i was giving the list of instances when you can stop cpr? you can stop now because he's dead' AND EVERYONE WAS LAUGHING AT ME AND MY COWORKER WAS FUCKING HEAVING AND WHEEZING HARD ENOUGH TO FALL OUT OF HIS CHAIR AND IM SO FUCKING MORTIFIED

I DECAPITATED CHARLES IN A CLASS ON HOW TO SAVE SOMEONES LIFE SOMEONE FUCKING KILL ME

miraculous-lesbeans

Feb 6

This is the best argument I’ve ever seen for CPR certification expiring. Charles laid down his inanimate life for a good cause.

One time my mom took me to a hibachi grill with a bunch of her friends and if you've never been to a hibachi grill basically the draw is that there's a bunch of interactive performance stuff done by the cook who cooks for you at your table, and one of the tricks they did at this one was take a squeeze bottle full of liquor and shoot it into your mouth across the table (with permission)

And now at our table my mom explained this because it was my first time going, and she wanted to make sure to warn me it was liquor because she knows I don’t drink- she just said "if he offers to shoot at your mouth, say no because it's alcohol".

And so the chef does his thing and it's all very impressive, but the time does come where he pulls out this squeeze bottle of booze and asks me if I wanna try

I of course say no, because I really don’t do alcohol, so he moves on to someone else

And I watch, and slowly come to understand that this is some sort of game, because once someone is drinking from the continuous flow the chef starts counting "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

I realize that we're trying to see who can keep drinking the liquor from three feet away without choking or spilling, and its a bummer cause i kinda wanna try and I CAN'T

But he goes around the table with everyone there, and I think my mom makes it to three, one friend makes it to five, I think my brother got to three as well, and he comes back to me

And I’m REALLY bummed out now but I will not drink alcohol, so I sort of sadly repeat that I can't when he pulls out a SECOND BOTTLE and grins and goes "juice?"

And I'm like FUCK YEAH LET'S GO and I'm a bit worried he's gonna spray it into my eye or something but he doesn't, it hits me right at the back of the throat, and I start drinking while the whole fucking table counts "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

And like

It just sorta

Kept going?

And I'm looking at the chef and he starts freaking out by the time we get to six, and at around seven I kinda start looking around and my auntie is staring back in shock, my brother is laughing his ass off and my mom has her face in her hands

And then at like nine or ten it gets like. Super tense and quiet, and only the chef is still counting

And I guess it got too much for even him cause we're at eleven and I don’t believe in quitting early and it is almost painful how awkward it’s getting

So he cuts me off at twelve and raises his hands in the air and everyone else cheers and claps like a dumb movie

and I just sit back in my seat to look back at my mother staring at me surrounded by everyone she knows, bright fucking red in the face and choking with honest to god tears in her eyes as she puts her face back in her palms and starts chanting "I don't want to know. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know"

So I give her the biggest, proudest grin and tell her, "I won."

So now every time something suggestive happens in a movie, or in conversation, or something shocking happens around us and she goes to jokingly cover my ears, I just ask her, "Remember when I won?"

And she goes face-down and groans, because I know EXACTLY how she thinks I trained to develop that particular skill and she HATES knowing that about me

The truth is though, I'm a whole ass 28 year old virgin. I've never so much as kissed anyone in my life. I had no idea I could do that trick until that exact moment

But she doesn’t know that, and I’m never gonna tell her

#EVER #That is the proudest I have ever been #teaboot #teaboot stories