It's fairly rare that I do anything on a Saturday that requires eight hours of my attention and doesn't involve a paycheck. However, this past Saturday saw Em and yours truly attending an eight-hour First Aid/CPR class for which I'll be receiving my certification in a couple of weeks.
Everyone has been asking why we took the course. Em needs it to be a Girl Scout leader and I wanted to take it because it had been so long since I had gone through the training (back in 1992) and figured it would be a good skill to have.
Thankfully, the class was just Em and I along with a pregnant woman named Julie and a Montessori teacher named Mary. Mary was a bit on the older side and a little weird. Our instructor was an EMT who has been doing the first responder thing for 20 years.
The training videos aren't nearly as bad as they used to be, but still had plenty of laughable moments. For instance, there was a character who happened to be around whenever there was trouble, even if she was calling on the phone. The demonstrations were also good for a guffaw or two with dead-pan deliveries of "The area is safe" and "You, call 911" before they got to the good stuff.
The CPR part of the course was pretty exhausting. We must have been beating on the chests of those practice dummies for a good half hour. The practice baby dummies looked pretty damned creepy, like something out of It's Alive. Thankfully we were able to escape intact.