Tuesday, October 02, 2007

The C and the R are easy. It's the P that's a bitch.

For some time I have searched with no success for someone to teach a CPR class to a group of new hires for a new business with which I am associated. “No problem,” I said when the task was put on my side of our lengthy to do list prior to our Grand Opening.

How hard could it be, I thought, to find a person with the knowledge necessary to teach others how to bring somebody back from the brink of death?

Turns out its damn near impossible to find someone who will teach others how to do this black magic known as CPR. I have concluded CPR instructors are like ninjas. Nobody actually knows one, but we know that in a fight, Chuck Norris would kick all their asses.

I’ve enlisted an Army of my peeps to assist me in my desperate search for a CPR ninja of my very own. The problem is that everyone I call acts as if I’ve just asked them for the name of a good back alley abortionist.

“Ummm, well I know a guy who knows a guy who might be able to do it, but I think maybe he had to stop.”

As of today, I have reached the end of my rope with this whole thing and have therefore decided just to teach the freaking class myself.

Am I certified to do so?

I am not.

Does that make me any less qualified to teach life saving techniques to the masses?


But with as much enthusiasm as the first time I had sex, I am going to show up in a low cut dress, plaster a fake smile on my face, and shout out a lot of words I do not understand.

Infarction! Aorta! Long-term commitment!

Topics I will cover include:

How to know if someone is really experiencing a heart attack or is simply a big fat cry baby.

(A good way to separate the ill from the pathetic is to kick them square in their no-no place. I’m saying if it’s really a heart attack, they will not possess the energy to beat the crap out of you.)

When to give CPR.

(The Sher method of CPR indicates you should do it whenever you want to show off. It’s great to bust out some CPR moves at parties. Who doesn’t love getting straddled and having their chest pumped? Some people pay good money for that kind of thing.)

How to actually do the actual do.

Step One - shake the victim violently and ask in a loud voice, “You didn’t have Mexican for lunch did you?” If they do not respond, flick their nose or nipple as hard as you can and issue the command, “I asked you a question dumb ass.”

If no response…

Step Two – Tilt their head back and hold a mirror under their nose to check for breathing. If you do not have a mirror, don’t worry. Simply lick your finger and shove it under their nose. Do not make the rookie mistake of licking their finger.

If you feel air, it’s all good and they’re breathing. However, since this low life has caused you to get off your behind and rush to their aid, they’re getting CPR come hell or high water.

Step Three – Pinch their boob, hold their nose, cover their mouth with your mouth and blow as hard as you can. If you find yourself incredibly aroused at this point, it’s perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of. The giving and receiving of CPR between two adults at least one of whom is conscious is a beautiful thing.

Step Four – Sit on the victim’s stomach and place your hands one on top of the other in the center of their chest. Begin pushing up and down as fast as you can, as hard as you possibly can. If you do not feel like you are pushing hard enough, enlist the help of a couple of the people who will certainly be standing around watching you. You will need about the same amount of pressure it takes to squeeze the air out of a radial tire so this is no time to be gentle.

Step Five – Do that boob, nose, mouth thing again. It’s not really going to help the victim, but it’s not all about them, is it?

Step Six – Keep pumping their chest until they come back to life, or until your arms get tired. If you do get tired…or bored, the proper protocol is very similar to what dealers do in Vegas when leaving a table: Wipe your hands together in a washing gesture and tell the dead guy good luck.

Step Seven – This is the most important step of all so listen up, class. If the person grabbing their chest in pain and falling smooth out on the floor is in any way unattractive, shout out, “I don’t know nothing ‘bout no CPR! Somebody call 9-1-1!”
This song has been stuck in my head all day. No idea why, but I love it.

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Jami said...

I am going to show up in a low cut dress, plaster a fake smile on my face

Don't forget the red stilettos - preferably ones that are easy to remove. That way, you can initially threaten to spike their eye to test if they're faking. This is much easier than shaking ... but not as much fun as no-no kicking or nipple flicking.

(Glad to see you're back. Lots of fiber help to pass the writer's block?)

Sher said...

And as luck would have it, I own such a pair of shoes.

Not fiber so much as frustration.

Jami said...

Your bowling shoes, if I recall correctly.

Anonymous said...

Oh. My. God. That was funny!!!
Your local Red Cross doesn't have a certified CPR trainer? Local hosiptal? Vet clinic? Firehouse?

Sher said...

Yes indeed! The bowling shoes!

If so, they are in the friggin witness protection program. The Evil BL thinks she found me a guy. Keep your fingers crossed.


Anonymous said...

Coffee Jim once saved a coon hound that got into an electric fence, by doing CPR on him.

Maybe I could get him to help you out!

Flutterby said...

ROFL!! Too funny!!
I tagged you on my blog; feel free to ignore it if you want but I promise... it's a nice even number, lol.

Sher said...


I think Coffee Jim and I would make a great team.

So long as it's not that number between 5&7 we're all good. ;-)

Grundir the Implacable said...

You are a very amusing mortal.

Sher said...

Oh Grundir, you silver tongued devil.

Flutterby said...

I would never use that number. That is one of the numbers that CANNOT be showing up on my clock before I turn off the lights to go to sleep. And the one after 8 isn't so hot either... ya know it's just the other one upside down trying to pull a fast one on you...

Sher said...

You're walking around in my head, Flutter.

Flutterby said...

It's gotta be some freak of nature to do with the birth date. Maybe we were supposed to be twins... or something. Ok I gotta go take a nap. I am losing what little sanity I have left now, lol.