About two weeks ago, I had to do CPR training. For most of us, this is a educational course, and if you are not certified I fully recommend you doing so. You might just save a life, because while CPR does fail most of the time to resuscitate a person, its better to give it a shot and an AED greatly increases the chance of success. A lot has to do with time of course, and I used to view CPR courses, as something that was required rather than it being necessary. Also, it used to not pain me, even after doing CPR on a person that ultimately failed. Yet with my son it is a different story. At first I was hesitant to publish this, because I do not want to have people, view CPR courses as a negative activity. That is not my intention at all, but rather I just decided to put this down, how I felt because my last night with my son I had to perform CPR on him.
Training is effective in 90% of major crises in life. However, its taken time to realize this, as with members of your family, especially your children, that goes out the window. The other CPR effort I was involved with shook me up, but at the same time, I felt that I did all that could be done. All of us die, and it is not up for us to decide that day. Yet I slept well that night, and the weeks after, knowing that I did what "The Good Samaritan Act," is about by the letter. I have been dreading CPR training for the past couple of weeks, because it frankly, breaks my heart. My thoughts go to Tommy on the floor, calling 911, and doing this to try to bring him back. I failed of course, and the paramedics did all that they could, to bring our boy back to us. They do this everyday, and I honestly don't know how they do it. God bless these angels, who do everything they can to help families such as mine across the world.
The class had not started yet, and even though I was with people whom I'm very comfortable with, I had to leave the room before a couple of times. Gaining my composure was not easy, as tears came out of my eyes, as I thought of Tommy on the floor that terrible November night. After the class was over, I made a beeline to get out of there, and cried my eyes out under my sunglasses. The next day was not easy, as I went to his burial plot, and just had floods of tears pour out onto the nearby grass. While the mannequin was more robotic looking than human, I still am deeply bothered by this experience, and am glad that I don't have to do be re-certified for another two years.
There are undoubtedly other parents out there, who have had to do the same, for their boy or girl. My heart is with you, as no parent should have to do CPR on their children. Yet this is the case daily, and there are many, who walk among us trying not to think of this process or what it entails. The flashbacks are probably going to be with us, for the rest of our lives, even though they do lessen in strength over time. The most painful times are of course having to take these classes, and anniversary dates such as birthdays and the day our child left us. I am thankful to the teachers of the CPR course, and those who go out everyday, to help people who have a medical emergency. Also, my heart goes out to those in the same shoes, because while we may not have wanted to be put in this position, it is imperative that we remember 30:2 as well.
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