Profile for kiwanotree:
I'm a Brit, living in Canada, because clearly I need to be more cold but also strangely more dry.
Oh yes, for this area has the same rough humidity as a desert. Such fascinating facts.
Stuff I've Done
Furtive Steals the ISS
Meme Chipper
Mills of the Spanish Main
leaving the gas on
he was having one of his funny turns
well that was a turn up for the books
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Best answers to questions:
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- a member for 22 years, 6 months and 1 day
- has posted 257 messages on the main board
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- has posted 33 stories and 1 replies on question of the week
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I'm a Brit, living in Canada, because clearly I need to be more cold but also strangely more dry.
Oh yes, for this area has the same rough humidity as a desert. Such fascinating facts.
Stuff I've Done
Furtive Steals the ISS
Meme Chipper
Mills of the Spanish Main
leaving the gas on
he was having one of his funny turns
well that was a turn up for the books
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Have you ever seen a dead body?
Lucky
Apparently it was just chance that you were there that morning. The family had tickets, and you decided to go along with them.
That was lucky.
You were seated very close to a first aid post, where a paramedic and a number of medical volunteers were stationed.
That was lucky.
During the event, your family saw you have difficulty, and quickly called for help.
That was lucky.
The event staff went to the first aid room. One of the medical volunteers quickly went to check, meeting a member of the family on the way, and was swiftly directed to where you lay.
That was lucky.
The medical volunteer found you laying on the concrete floor between the seats and noted your agonal breathing, cyanotic lips, pale and diaphoretic complexion. Your carotid pulse was checked, and found to be absent. The volunteer used their radio to call for the paramedic on duty, who confirmed that they were already on their way with their equipment.
That was lucky.
At the same time, a bystander identified themselves as a nurse and asked if they should start chest compressions. The medical volunteer checked for a pulse one more time and told the nurse to start. Almost straight away, the paramedic arrived and started setting up a defibrillator. The medical volunteer made sure an ambulance had been called.
That was lucky.
You had defibrillator pads stuck to your chest. The nurse was beating your heart for you by compressing your chest. The medical volunteer was breathing for you by 'bagging' you between compressions, delivering oxygen into your lungs. The paramedic periodically called for a pause in CPR to analyse your heart rhythm. You were shocked a number of times. Several times you were in asystole - flatline - dead. During all of this, the medical volunteer removed your glasses and placed them into the top pocket of their shirt, in order to get a better seal on your mouth and nose with the mask. After a short while, the nurse stated that she was tired and needed someone to take over. A member of staff who had previous experience with CPR took over seamlessly.
That was lucky.
An EMS team arrived, along with a Fire Crew. The on duty paramedic shocked you once more, then arranged for you to be carried up out of the stairs to the waiting stretcher. More CPR was done on you as you lay there, then you were transported to the waiting ambulance. Just before you left the venue, the paramedic called for everyone to stop. The defibrillator showed that you had a heart beat, and you were breathing on your own. Before you left the venue, you were back.
That was lucky.
The stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, and the EMS crew and the paramedic went into the back and got to work. Your son was placed into the passenger seat whilst in the back, people worked to stabilise you. Soon after, the ambulance left to take you to a nearby hospital.
That was lucky.
Later on, the hospital called the first aid post and told everyone that you were sitting up in the intensive care unit, talking. Everyone who was involved was thanked for working together as a team. The ultimate reward was knowing you were okay.
I still remember the look on your sons face and I handed your glasses to him whilst he sat in the ambulance, a tear running down his cheek as the full weight of what happened hit him...
(Thu 28th Feb 2008, 22:47, More)
Lucky
Apparently it was just chance that you were there that morning. The family had tickets, and you decided to go along with them.
That was lucky.
You were seated very close to a first aid post, where a paramedic and a number of medical volunteers were stationed.
That was lucky.
During the event, your family saw you have difficulty, and quickly called for help.
That was lucky.
The event staff went to the first aid room. One of the medical volunteers quickly went to check, meeting a member of the family on the way, and was swiftly directed to where you lay.
That was lucky.
The medical volunteer found you laying on the concrete floor between the seats and noted your agonal breathing, cyanotic lips, pale and diaphoretic complexion. Your carotid pulse was checked, and found to be absent. The volunteer used their radio to call for the paramedic on duty, who confirmed that they were already on their way with their equipment.
That was lucky.
At the same time, a bystander identified themselves as a nurse and asked if they should start chest compressions. The medical volunteer checked for a pulse one more time and told the nurse to start. Almost straight away, the paramedic arrived and started setting up a defibrillator. The medical volunteer made sure an ambulance had been called.
That was lucky.
You had defibrillator pads stuck to your chest. The nurse was beating your heart for you by compressing your chest. The medical volunteer was breathing for you by 'bagging' you between compressions, delivering oxygen into your lungs. The paramedic periodically called for a pause in CPR to analyse your heart rhythm. You were shocked a number of times. Several times you were in asystole - flatline - dead. During all of this, the medical volunteer removed your glasses and placed them into the top pocket of their shirt, in order to get a better seal on your mouth and nose with the mask. After a short while, the nurse stated that she was tired and needed someone to take over. A member of staff who had previous experience with CPR took over seamlessly.
That was lucky.
An EMS team arrived, along with a Fire Crew. The on duty paramedic shocked you once more, then arranged for you to be carried up out of the stairs to the waiting stretcher. More CPR was done on you as you lay there, then you were transported to the waiting ambulance. Just before you left the venue, the paramedic called for everyone to stop. The defibrillator showed that you had a heart beat, and you were breathing on your own. Before you left the venue, you were back.
That was lucky.
The stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, and the EMS crew and the paramedic went into the back and got to work. Your son was placed into the passenger seat whilst in the back, people worked to stabilise you. Soon after, the ambulance left to take you to a nearby hospital.
That was lucky.
Later on, the hospital called the first aid post and told everyone that you were sitting up in the intensive care unit, talking. Everyone who was involved was thanked for working together as a team. The ultimate reward was knowing you were okay.
I still remember the look on your sons face and I handed your glasses to him whilst he sat in the ambulance, a tear running down his cheek as the full weight of what happened hit him...
(Thu 28th Feb 2008, 22:47, More)
» The Police
DOOOOOWWWWWNNNNN!!!!
My home town - Harlow, in Essex - has some lovely cycle paths. About 12 summers ago, two of my friends and I had a charming little tradition. On the weekend I would cycle to the local town park - I was furthest away - and pick up my friends as I went. Once together the three of us would amble merrily along, stopping only to raid a nearly off-license. Back packs bulging with cans of K cider and various beers, we would sit on a hill near the pitch-n-putt area and drink, chat, and watch the sun go down.
The journey home was often a lot more wobbly than the journey out.
One time, I had waved goodbye to one friend and continued my merry way home. I got to Mill Lane, very very close to home, when I noticed a police car parked outside the entrance to the lane. I leapt off the bike and started pushing it along as I noticed the copper standing by the car. You've all spoken to a bobby whilst drunk, right?
"Evening orific... officer - what's happening?"
"Oh, we've had reports of a pervert in the playing fields down the lane, so we've got some officers checking it out."
"Can I go down the lane? My house is near the end..."
"Sure thing - but make sure you walk the bike, as you clearly have been doing so after so much to drink..."
"Of course, cun.. constable!"
Half way down the lane is a small side road leading to the playing fields. Happily pushing my bike along, I suddenly hear a voice yell "DOOOOOWWWWWNNNNN!!!!", and I turn to the right and see a German Shepherd flying at my head.
I have never moved so fast. I crouched down beside my bike, putting it between me and the dog, which actually managed to drop out of the air and lay down, growling at me. My eyes met the dogs through the frame of the bike, and I've never sobered up so fast.
The policeman came over and leashed his dog. I stood up, shaking like a leaf, and he said "Sorry, son, thought you were a pervert. Good job she'd only just started her leap. Hey, you're not going to ride that home, are you?". I just pointed down the lane and nodded, unable to speak for a moment.
"Ahh, on your way then, on your way..."
(Thu 22nd Sep 2005, 22:17, More)
DOOOOOWWWWWNNNNN!!!!
My home town - Harlow, in Essex - has some lovely cycle paths. About 12 summers ago, two of my friends and I had a charming little tradition. On the weekend I would cycle to the local town park - I was furthest away - and pick up my friends as I went. Once together the three of us would amble merrily along, stopping only to raid a nearly off-license. Back packs bulging with cans of K cider and various beers, we would sit on a hill near the pitch-n-putt area and drink, chat, and watch the sun go down.
The journey home was often a lot more wobbly than the journey out.
One time, I had waved goodbye to one friend and continued my merry way home. I got to Mill Lane, very very close to home, when I noticed a police car parked outside the entrance to the lane. I leapt off the bike and started pushing it along as I noticed the copper standing by the car. You've all spoken to a bobby whilst drunk, right?
"Evening orific... officer - what's happening?"
"Oh, we've had reports of a pervert in the playing fields down the lane, so we've got some officers checking it out."
"Can I go down the lane? My house is near the end..."
"Sure thing - but make sure you walk the bike, as you clearly have been doing so after so much to drink..."
"Of course, cun.. constable!"
Half way down the lane is a small side road leading to the playing fields. Happily pushing my bike along, I suddenly hear a voice yell "DOOOOOWWWWWNNNNN!!!!", and I turn to the right and see a German Shepherd flying at my head.
I have never moved so fast. I crouched down beside my bike, putting it between me and the dog, which actually managed to drop out of the air and lay down, growling at me. My eyes met the dogs through the frame of the bike, and I've never sobered up so fast.
The policeman came over and leashed his dog. I stood up, shaking like a leaf, and he said "Sorry, son, thought you were a pervert. Good job she'd only just started her leap. Hey, you're not going to ride that home, are you?". I just pointed down the lane and nodded, unable to speak for a moment.
"Ahh, on your way then, on your way..."
(Thu 22nd Sep 2005, 22:17, More)
» Lies Your Parents Told You
Wasps and Bees, oh my
My dad told me that bees were friendly and wasps were mean, and that I should run screaming from wasps but be calm and peaceful around bees.
At primary school, a bee came in. All the little kids freak out and run screaming from it. Of course, I stand still, smug in the knowledge that bees are our friends. It stings me. I had such a go at my dad that night.
His response?
"It might have been a wasp in disguise, they're really tricky..."
Gah, parents!
(Thu 15th Jan 2004, 7:20, More)
Wasps and Bees, oh my
My dad told me that bees were friendly and wasps were mean, and that I should run screaming from wasps but be calm and peaceful around bees.
At primary school, a bee came in. All the little kids freak out and run screaming from it. Of course, I stand still, smug in the knowledge that bees are our friends. It stings me. I had such a go at my dad that night.
His response?
"It might have been a wasp in disguise, they're really tricky..."
Gah, parents!
(Thu 15th Jan 2004, 7:20, More)
» Clients Are Stupid
The Data Brick
I used to work for a company who provided computing services for a large UK food consortium. Our department worked with one of their branches, responsible for bread and morning goods - a well known brand.
Every day, each bakery had to transmit their sales and orders to the mainframe, held at our offices.
One time a particular bakery up north just couldn't get it sent. We were on the phone with them for ages and ages, and they eventually called in their data processing manager, who was off that day.
She came on the phone and tried all the usual things, then said "Hang on while I check the data brick". We were left puzzled over what the hell she was talking about. When she came back to the phone, she said "Ahh it's all sorted now, it should arrive soon.". We asked her what she did.
Back in the day, every bakery had a 2400 baud modem. At the appropriate time they'd call the mainframe number and once they heard the screech of the modem at the other end they'd press the DATA button on the modem. This particular bakery thought the whole concept was stupid and in need of automating, so they placed a brick - a whole brick - next to the modem and slid it forward until it depressed the data button. Now, all they had to do was dial the mainframe and it would take over.
Of course, on this day the cleaners had moved the brick when dusting the computer room down, and the dp manager was off that day. Because no one else had any idea this even had to be DONE, no one knew anything about it.
I still chuckle when I think of the data brick...
(Mon 29th Dec 2003, 22:06, More)
The Data Brick
I used to work for a company who provided computing services for a large UK food consortium. Our department worked with one of their branches, responsible for bread and morning goods - a well known brand.
Every day, each bakery had to transmit their sales and orders to the mainframe, held at our offices.
One time a particular bakery up north just couldn't get it sent. We were on the phone with them for ages and ages, and they eventually called in their data processing manager, who was off that day.
She came on the phone and tried all the usual things, then said "Hang on while I check the data brick". We were left puzzled over what the hell she was talking about. When she came back to the phone, she said "Ahh it's all sorted now, it should arrive soon.". We asked her what she did.
Back in the day, every bakery had a 2400 baud modem. At the appropriate time they'd call the mainframe number and once they heard the screech of the modem at the other end they'd press the DATA button on the modem. This particular bakery thought the whole concept was stupid and in need of automating, so they placed a brick - a whole brick - next to the modem and slid it forward until it depressed the data button. Now, all they had to do was dial the mainframe and it would take over.
Of course, on this day the cleaners had moved the brick when dusting the computer room down, and the dp manager was off that day. Because no one else had any idea this even had to be DONE, no one knew anything about it.
I still chuckle when I think of the data brick...
(Mon 29th Dec 2003, 22:06, More)
» We have to talk
Facts of Life
I think I was about 16 when my mum decided we needed to have "The Talk". She started by asking if I knew about sex. I replied with "What do you want to know?".
I still had my v-plates at the time, but being a librarian at school meant I had access to all sorts of educational material. That, and the fact that our sex education teacher (for one lesson) was the hot English teacher.
I'll never forget her slapping an open condom into the palm of her hand and saying, "What's this?". That totally shocked the entire class out of our immature giggles. Someone said "A condom, Miss?" and she replied scornfully with, "No, I want the other names, you know, johnny, rubber, all that stuff!".
Anyway, my mum asked me a few questions, I answered them, she suggested I knew more than her, we never spoke of it again.
(Sun 22nd Apr 2007, 17:10, More)
Facts of Life
I think I was about 16 when my mum decided we needed to have "The Talk". She started by asking if I knew about sex. I replied with "What do you want to know?".
I still had my v-plates at the time, but being a librarian at school meant I had access to all sorts of educational material. That, and the fact that our sex education teacher (for one lesson) was the hot English teacher.
I'll never forget her slapping an open condom into the palm of her hand and saying, "What's this?". That totally shocked the entire class out of our immature giggles. Someone said "A condom, Miss?" and she replied scornfully with, "No, I want the other names, you know, johnny, rubber, all that stuff!".
Anyway, my mum asked me a few questions, I answered them, she suggested I knew more than her, we never spoke of it again.
(Sun 22nd Apr 2007, 17:10, More)