Is There A Doctor In The House?

As you know, I don't like to discuss my work as a first-aider. It's a selfless task I know, and one that needs dedication, empathy, and a strong stomach, but most of all modesty and deference.

And, yes, there are times that a first-aider has to forget the first rule of first-aid and step into harm's way when someone needs help. "Establish that it is safe to approach!" goes the mantra, but sometimes needs must, and the brave amongst us have to step up and be counted.

For example, this evening, as I was minding my own business in preparing the end of month returns, adjusting the accruals and falsifying the projected yearly outgoings, I heard a colleague cry-out.

Injured, with a pretty nasty paper cut, what he actually cried-out was: "Why is the First Aid box locked?"

Naturally, I didn't think twice; I rushed to the scene! I have no idea who locked the First Aid box*. I cannot imagine why anyone would want to lock a First Aid box? It's not as though it contains Morphine; and even if it did it's the size of a lunch box: the junkies would just carry it with them to somewhere where they could break into it in privacy.

Anyway, I had no time to question why or how, I just had to get the thing open. As the wounded party gripped his superficially lacerated finger, I went out back, got the tool kit, got the biggest screwdriver in it and a hammer, and set about the latches on that First Aid box without a thought.

Had I been paying a little more attention, I may not have missed the screwdriver with the first blow, I would certainly not have sustained the subsequent injury to my index finger, which took the full force of the ball-pein.

Like: OUCH!!!

Imagine the entry in the First Aid book:

Describe circumstances of injury: Finger broken by hammer blow whilst attempting to break into First Aid box whilst assisting colleague injured with paper cut.

On second thoughts, maybe not. Stalin wasn't the only one who knew when to airbrush out the truth!

*(I do, however, have an inkling who may have locked the box—knowing the nature of the woman in charge of H&S—and how that person MAY have crept in on a secret mission after hours to spy on the expiration date on our bandages.)