Today I spent six hours in a First Aid Certification training, and let me tell you: I am ready to save lives. I DARE you to lose consciousness or stop breathing in my immediate vicinity. Because I will be all over that shit. Also, feel free to choke on your dinner if we're out together: I've got the Heimlich down, pat, and I'm not afraid to use it.
First Aid training is one of those intimate situations where you have to get comfortable with your co-trainees in a big hurry, because you've got your hands all over them, practicing opening their airways and flipping them this way and that in order to situate them in a position that will allow them to breathe easy and not choke on their own vomit.
Each of us spent a number of sweaty minutes compressing the chests on plastic dummies for 30 beats at a time, then puffing twice into their mouths to ventilate, and let me tell you: it's a lot effing harder than it looks, if you've never done it before. For one thing, chests are tough. For another, you're supposed to compress WAY faster than they do it on TV. It would be difficult to perform CPR for more than a few minutes, although I believe could do it, if need be.
We learned today that there are good samaritan laws to protect us, should we ever find ourselves in emergency situations, although we must not deviate from our training, and we must always ask the person needing assistance if they would like our help before we just jump in. Which is why we were made to repeat, over and over, "Hello, my name is Bobby (or whatever). I am trained in First Aid. May I help you?" We were made to ask this of our nonresponsive CPR dummies. It's assumed that if the person cannot respond, they want your help, but you STILL have to ask. Isn't that insane?
So anyway. Faint or choke, have a heart attack or a seizure, and I promise I'll do my best to make sure you don't die. No guarantees, though. ;-)