CPR and Life.... Totally Random

It's been forever since I've posted... I feel kind of bad, but school's been crazy. Fun, but crazy. Anyways, my Language Arts teacher (better known as English to you non-sophisticated, non-Kuna folks) seems like she's pretty crazy, but in reality she's pretty cool. Every class period she has us write something, and last time she wanted us to write a story or experience in exactly 150 words (because of course Reader's Digest is offering $25,000 if they publish it...) So here's mine:

There was a lifeless Caucasian torso lying on the table, staring at me through the crack of its eyelids. My fist was interlaced over my other hand. Then with all the strength in my little arms, I pushed the sternum in, it bending like a piece of thin Plexiglas. 

28, 29, 30, breathe. Pinching the nose shut, I breathed air into the non-existent lungs of the CPR mannequin. It was feeling surreal when our instructor said hastily to the class, "Ok, that's probably good. Let's move on to first aid."

While he droned on about burns and cuts, I stared at the wall, thinking. A teacher collapsing in the middle of class. A child laying face down in a lake. A suffocating baby.

Could I do it? Handle the desperation as I break bones, trying to save someone's life? And if I failed? A broken, lifeless body. A mannequin.

So where did this come from?

Last week I spent nearly my entire day participating in and helping out with a free CPR class. The instructor was pretty freaking hilarious, though he obviously didn't know that there were at least four Mormons in the class when he was joking around with everyone, talking about their experiences getting drunk.

I know. I love my iPod camera too.

I can't really describe the feeling when we were working. It was kind of weird, because, first of all, CPR's pretty much pushing someone's freaking chest in. Now, as I'm touching my sternum gingerly (I'm a sympathetic pain kind of person...), I can't even imagine it moving. And then when I'm just, lah-dee-dah, having play time with a plastic mannequin, you don't even hardly have to push to get that thing to cave in.

And breaking ribs. Don't you even get me started on that.

I just can't imagine what it would be like doing CPR on an actual person. I mean, obviously you would want to save their life and everything, but come on; I'm the one writhing in sympathetic agony and discomfort when Khan squishes Admiral Marcus' skull in with his hands in the new Star Trek movie. (haha, oops, spoiler alert... en retard.)

I've never broken a bone in my life or seen anyone break a bone, so I seriously have no idea what it's like. So all of the sudden if I have to do CPR on someone, I'll probably be crying and on the verge of a panic attack while trying to re-start someone's heart.(Why am I thinking of going in the medical field?!?)

I think it all comes down to this: "Sometimes in order to help someone, we need to hurt them first." Examples are of when a bone heals incorrectly and doctors have to re-break it and set it, slicing someone open to fix something in their body, and even other stuff that doesn't pertain to the medical field, like how you have to deadhead rosebushes or trim trees so that they can grow in healthier. CPR's kind of a life lesson, you know? If you can look past the literal fact that you are performing an act on someone that will save their life, there's all kinds of ways you can look at it.

So, if at all possible, please do not stop breathing and fall over with no pulse right in front of me. I'm perfectly qualified and might be able to save you, but I'm pretty sure your broken bones will hurt me more than they will hurt you.