Dateline Boston — Last weekend I took two classes to be recertified in CPR and first aid. In nearly 30 years of certification, I have never taken classes so horrible as these.
They were held at a local hotel on the coldest day of the winter. Forecasters said that if you stood outside, you could get frostbite in 10 minutes. I was glad to be indoors on a day like that, not missing out on beautiful weather. Might as well get recertified!
I went into a room that had long tables and chairs set up. A man stood up and introduced himself by first name only. I think he mentioned that it was a CPR class. He told us there was a sign-in sheet. We all stood in line to sign in. As we did, he told us to take sheets of paper that were on his table. No book for this class, yay! I wondered if there would be a test. I looked around the room and counted 18 people and four dummies. I thought to myself, “This might take awhile.”
Instructor began by telling us that there would be no videos for this class, because when there were, people fell asleep. Not to worry, though, he would keep us entertained. Oh, boy.
Most of us had taken the class before; only one or two people hadn’t. Instructor began by asking us questions rapid fire, then going around the room in order and having each person give an answer. After each question and answer, he would explain the correct answer, making jokes as he went along. He mumbled slightly. I was distracted. He reminded me of a character in my favorite movie, “The Usual Suspects.” Benicio Del Toro played a slick con artist who had the habit of mumbling. Half the time you couldn’t understand what the guy was saying. This is how it was with CPR instructor. He looked like the actor Kevin James with a New Jersey accent.
I learned something new in this class. I have been taught that when you tell someone to call 911, you say, “You in the blue shirt! Call 911!” This time, we were supposed to say that, plus, “AED, and come back!” We all said AED without knowing what the initials stood for. Eventually someone asked. Instructor replied, “Defibrillator.” I got that’s what the D was for, but he never explained the A or the E. Automatic Emergency? I adjusted my instructions to say, “You in the blue shirt! Call 911 and tell them to bring an AED, and come back!” Everyone else said, “Call 911 AED!” It sounded ridiculous.
Bra-vo
He told us to remove the bras of victims. I must have made a horrified face, because he explained that the wire in underwire bras could electrocute you with the AED. “It’s metal.” In all my years, I have never heard talk of bras in CPR class.
We went up in groups of four to practice our CPR skills while Instructor played songs from his portable radio. He asked what the music should be, and of course I answered, “Stayin’ Alive” because that’s what I had been taught. He played that, plus “Another One Bites the Dust. “ Ha, ha. He told us what to do and we did it. He explained some of why we were doing what we were doing, but not all. I was glad I had taken this class before.
After my turn, he played the music again and tested other students. As he did so, he sauntered over to where I was. In a slightly flirtatious tone, he said to me, “Now how am I supposed to teach this class when you’re over here making me laugh? He mentioned my horrified face at the bra comment. Instructor man, do not flirt with me when you’re supposed to be making sure your students know how to save a life.
The rest of the class dragged on, due to people making silly comments and joking around. For the infant part of the class, he didn’t have a proper infant dummy. He had a doll. Like a doll that maybe his child dragged around. It had a dirty face. During the break, I took a selfie with the doll because it was so unbelievable. Finally, the class was over. Instructor asked us to take the sheets of paper we had taken and check all the columns. We all passed!
Saving Time
Five of us stayed, and one new person joined for the next class, First Aid. I was happy that there were only six of us; that meant it might not take the whole hour and a half that was scheduled for the class.
Instructor did not introduce himself. He just said again that there wouldn’t be any videos. I had told the young woman next to me that the videos for First Aid were graphic and gross. Guess she wouldn’t see Johnny get a pencil stuck in his eye! There were two handouts for the class. Instructor read each heading with the accompanying sentence, then he’d say, “Any questions?” He did this with two sheets of paper. No one ever had any questions, so the entire class took only 30 minutes. You know the expression, to “Phone it in?” This guy did whatever is below phoning it in. He didn’t explain any of the emergencies. No stories to illustrate. No reasons why you do such and such.
Actually, there was one question. “Why do you put a knocked out tooth in milk?” His answer? “I don’t know. Someone told me that.” Another gem was when he was talking about something being impaled. The instruction was, “Do not remove object.” He said that, plus, “Yeah. Don’t do anything.” He actually said “Don’t do anything.” I wrote it down. I told a story about my husband and calling 911, and after that, Instructor didn’t smile at me quite so much.
At the end of the questionless class, we had to fill out a satisfaction survey. I gave him good marks all down the line because there were only six of us in the class, and I didn’t want him to know it was me giving him bad marks. I couldn’t hide outside because it was too cold. I’m going to look for an online form to fill out and tell them the truth of how the class was, right after I get my certification cards in the mail. I do hope I’m never in the position to remove a woman’s underwire bra so I can affix a something something defibrillator.
Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
