On Friday, I had scheduled myself to attend First Aid training. When I was getting ready to go, the secretary asked me why I was dallying around. She knew I didn’t want to go, but she didn’t know why. The truth is, I really enjoy the classes, but I hate looking at the gory pictures. It didn’t used to bother me, but it’s been getting worst as I get older. The first time I had to go to and Air Force first aid class was when I’d first gotten to Schriever in 2000. I recall looking at the pictures and feeling nauseous and dizzy and watching my vision go all tunnel on me. I fought hard and didn’t pass out. The next time I had to go I made sure to not look at the pictures. While at Gunter, they didn’t hold any actual training, but instead sent out the briefing over email for us to go over at our leisure. That made it really easy to skip the pictures.
I was determined that I would again do my best to not look at the pictures. What I didn’t know was that the instructor had quite the knack for description as well. Whenever a gory picture came up I’d be sure to stare intently at the instructor as always, but I could still see the pictures out of the corner of my eye. Not quite the Ostrich approach I’d hoped for. And then the instructor would start to describe stuff. Bones scraping, blood oozing, etc. Well, as I started intently at him I again watched my vision go all tunnel…and then I was in happy land. The next thing I knew he was in front of me asking me if I was ok. Apparantly, I’d passed right out. Damn. Oh well, no big deal, let’s get on with the class right? Right? Nope. Instead they called 911 and sent me to the hospital. The instructor apparantly thought I’d had a seizure. WTF? I know he had my best interests in mind, but that seems like quite a leap to me.
At any rate, I had a good time telling jokes to the EMTs, police and the ambulence drivers. Then I got to have an exciting wait for the doctor at the hospital for 90 minutes. Oh the fun. Was anything actually wrong with me? No. The doctor said that it’s quite common to pass out at the sight of blood.
Of course, now I get to face the music back here at work too as more and more people take their pot shots at me. Yay! Go me!
:-\
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