Not really a funny story, but still...

Thursday afternoon, I was approached by my supervisor with a simple request:  "Dave, we need a first aider!  Apparently, Money Mart is short first aiders... and I remember that you have your ticket... so could you be our first aider?"

A fair enough request, but one that instantly reminded me of a conversation I'd had with this exact same supervisor, almost two months earlier:

DAVE:  So, um, you just hired 60 new people.
DAVE:  And we're in a seperate building?
DAVE:  So, do you need me to be a first aider?
SUPERVISOR:  Nope.  We're all covered.
DAVE:  Are you sure?  Because we're in a seperate building, and you need an OFA 2 or higher for every fifty or so employees.  I'm an OFA 3, y'know...
SUPERVISOR:  No.  We're covered!
DAVE:  Okay.

Turns out she was wrong.  And I was right.  But since when am I the type to bring things like this up?  Okay, wait, don't answer that. 

Now, I have no problem being a first aider, and I said as much.  And then I became super serious.  The usual Dave-smile was gone, to be replaced by the face I like to call "Mr. Frownee McGee". I took my supervisor aside and gave her the "first aider speech", which went something like this: 
Listen.  I would love to be your first aider.  But remember, I'm going into a medical profession, so if I screw up here, it's my butt on the line.  I will be following all the rules required of a first aider.  That means I need the appropriate gear, and I will do the appropriate things.  I need to get ahold of official policies and gain access to certain things for me to do my job. 
Because it's a known fact that people like to appoint a first aider, and then completely ignore their needs.  I mean, why bother giving the first aider an appropriate kit if it costs money, right?  No one here is going to have a heart attack or anything, anyways.  And so, when the unthinkable happens, the poor first aider is stuck having to MacGuyver together a life-saving device with a pencil, a three-month-old twinkie, and a paperclip. 

All in all, though, the conversation went pretty well, and I was beginning to feel confident in my new position.  And then came the next morning... when this story became sort of funny.  See, I called up the head first aider of the office.  I was a bit concerned about a few things, including:
  1. I was a first aider that had no idea of company policy regarding incident filing or emergency procedures.
  2. I had no idea where the first aid room was.
  3. I had no way to get INTO the first aid room.
  4. I had a key card that would only get me into the elevator up until 6 pm, and otherwise, I was hooped.
  5. The kit in the easy tax office happens to be worse than the kit I take when I go fishing (which attaches to my belt, and includes a pair of pliers.  Think about that.) 
So, this guy is showing me around, when he leads me into the first aid room.  Then he reveals that he is only the administrative head of our first aid department, and has no actual creditation.  How does he reveal this?  With the brilliant observations he makes while in the first aid room.  Observations that are so amazing, they deserve some sort of comedy award:
  • (While pointing at a cylinder in a bag) "I think that's the oxygen, right there."
  • "Um, I have no idea what that is.  But I guess that's your job, eh?"  (while pointing at a red bag that is clearly marked "First Aid Kit, level 2")
  • "As you can see, that's a bed."
  • "I don't know why this sink is here, but I guess it is."
Seriously.  He said all that.  And we were only in there for about a minute.  Despite the fact that I was wearing my "tax clothes" (a mario t-shirt, a san jose sharks toque, and skate shoes) and he was wearing a suit, I wasn't the one who looked stupid in that exchange.  He also seemed to think it was unprofessional that our Bag Valve Mask was still in the wrapper (the funny thing being, I'm the only first aider in the building who is legally allowed to use a BVM, so why it was there in the first place is kind of a mystery).  It was an eye-opening experience.

On the plus side, I am now legally entitled to follow all of my sentences with the word "stat!"  I fully plan on abusing this privilege.


No comments:

Post a Comment