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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my ten year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Saturday, September 17, 2016

I'm Certified. Again.

I’m finally certified!
  
That’s certified, as in re-certified  in CPR, not  certifiable. Big difference. 
  
I started the process back in February. But the instructional video kept hanging up. It  does this to me every year. Every year I complain about it. You would think they would fix it; however, you'd be wrong. In fact, we have another required video that does the same thing. And every year, when I write the evaluation, I complain about it as well. This past year, not only did I give it a poor evaluation, I also emailed some person that scheduled me for the training (it wasn’t my normal scheduler,  and I complained about the quality of the video. They agreed it needed to be fixed.  I'm waiting for that training to be reassigned this year. 
   
Anyway, now I have the same problem with the CPR video and  I thought I was going to have to complain about it hanging up . But I finally watched the video last night (after waiting a full five minutes for it to load),  and today I called the local instructors to find out when I could do the hands on skills test. In the past, it was in a class setting. She said I could come anytime, since it's done on the manikins individually. She went on to say if the instructors  weren’t there, just get the Nursing Supervisor to open the door.  Sweet. Education on my schedule. 
  
Might as well get er done. I thought, and set off to the education lab to meet a couple of Dummies. 
 
Even though I used all of my weight, and a stiff arm that would be outlawed in professional football, 

I still had to do 5 cycles of adult compressions to get 3 passing!  All because the computer said I couldn’t get the compressions deep enough.  That Dummy’s dadgum chest was almost touching the table!  I finally fisted the chest and bounced to get it to go to the computers appropriate depth.  Before I did though, I saw a sign on the wall that says, If you are unsuccessful after several attempts, return to your workstation and call Clinical Education.  Ha!  I have never felt so inadequate; however, there was no way I would admit defeat by a Dummy. Tears streaming down my face, I aborted the skills test and I told the manikins, You had better not arrest in my presence—‘cause if you do, You. Gonna. Die!   
  
Then, I took a brief rest to catch my breath and resumed chest compressions.  
  
Still the computerized manikin said my compressions weren't deep enough. My wrists were killing me, so I started altering my hands and, and even pounding with my fists. I found by punching the dummy's chest I gained the computers required depth and I sorta bounced off him, so I had the good release the computer wanted as well.  None of these moves, hand placement, or techniques are American Heart Association approved.  I cackled with glee when the computer finally told me I beat the Dummy’s chest deep enough to pass.  My face was beet red and I gasped for breath, but never was a victory sweeter.
 
The baby was next up. Piece of cake. 
   
Underestimating your adversary is a Big Mistake. 
  
Before I even completed the first cycle, the baby had me reaching for the white flag of surrender. 

Again, I was told I was “not compressing deep enough”—this time I was actually hitting the table through the baby's chest.   I knew I was on target, so  I wiped the tears from my eyes, squared my shoulders, and marched to the Clinical Education offices to fetch the instructor.   One look on my face and the instructor knew I was not having a good experience.  When we arrived back at the side of the pint-sized demon dummy, she (the instructor, not the dummy), told me, in order to pass she had to “use her knuckles and bounce.”  SMH!   I already knew from the adult that I needed to bounce.  We restarted the test and in her presence I passed. First time. Perfect score. No Do Over required. And that's as it should be. 
 
BTW, the instructor said two things that encouraged and then enraged me. First, I performed the skills in very good time. (less than 15 minutes had elapsed, although it felt like a lifetime.).  That also makes me very nervous. How long do my coworkers take?!  When I telephoned earlier I has asked how much time I should allot. She laughed and said, "That all depends on how long you practice and how many attempts it takes you to pass. Most people can pass within 30 minutes, but there have been some that take much longer."  Second, she agreed with me on the depth of compressions, but said the “people” say it’s set for the depth you would have to compress for a 120-pound adult. 
    
"There is no way!  I was pounding. I’ve done compressions in a real code, on a real person, and compressed that man (and broke his ribs),  much easier than these dummies!" I said.  On a side note, it's now almost twelve hours later and my wrists still hurt.  
  
I know:  Wha-Wha-Wha. 

So the upshot  is this:  I am certified to save your life for another year (AHA certifies every two years, but VA requires annual recerts). So, if you fall out in front  of me, or I happen ion your inert self, I can still save your life—but,  you have to weigh less than an infant. And even then I’ll likely break every bone in your body…and my wrists, which have resumed their throbbing. In fact, my wrists may never be the same again. Dratted Dummy. 
  
I wonder if Dummy Induced Wrist Fatigue is covered by Workers Comp...

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