melo_annechen: (ooh)
Well, not just the zombies. Himself and Hyperactive Lad may be in class sometime for CPR/AED training.

The Heart of Tennessee Red Cross schedule is here, which includes Standard First Aid with Adult, Child and Infant CPR and AED training, CPR for the Professional Rescuer, and Babysitting. Yes, babysitting - I wonder how much more a certified babysitter can make?

Hyperactive Lad could have been ahead of the game at BSA resident camp if he had agreed to attend Lifesaver Camp at the Nashville Area Red Cross. I might be able to convince him to go next year.

For those of you not in my back yard, you might want to check the American Red Cross national website, and see what is available in your area.
melo_annechen: (Hero)
Interactive fiction can be fun; but that was not the whole of it. Thinking about any disaster and how prepared we are for it is difficult, but put it in the frame of a zombie uprising, and the drill is fun! Zombies make everything better!

I haven’t heard from [ profile] drharper for her wrap-up, but [ profile] fabricdragon has done her report here, and [ profile] patgund posted his thoughts here, and now I’m gonna talk. You don’t have to listen, but it is here for your edification.

So, class, what have we learned? )
melo_annechen: (Meddle not)
The PPOD got zombified, somehow got onto an elevator, and her card activated the lock for the upper floors. I'm still ticked that it took most of my diet soda to disable her, but luckily a couple of clerks with latex gloves were nearby to pitch the undead over the railing into the atrium.

The fact that I got to kick her in the head is icing on the cake. I split my skirt a little, but not much, because she was short. It's on the seam, so I can fix it when this Incident is complete.

I washed my Tevas and my kicking leg in the hospital-grade microbial soap, and there were no scrapes on my foot or leg. Should be okay for now.

((This is a Zombie Invasion post, with plenty of rock salt.))
melo_annechen: (
My supervisor gave me a verbal warning about bringing up my reality issues in my telephone conversations with clients who call about missing their appointments. She hadn't seen the news yet. Memphis (or the areas where my clients live) seems to be hit pretty bad with the zombies, but around here, the large chunks of them are going for downtown.

Yeah, right, zombie uprising. Of course, now they believe me. We're okay as long as nobody opens a door to a stairwell, which happened on the third floor. Downside, that cleaned out the training staff. Upside, we got sufficient warning.

Of course, this being a government building, there is a strict "no weapons" policy. I figure we can hold out for a couple of days. I have my multitool, so creating weapons isn't a problem, and the morning-star in my office is not just decorative (Thank you Christy, I hope you made it out of this mess).

I'm writing to let Himself know I'm still okay as of this writing, and to make sure Hyperactive Lad stays inside. Now would be a good time to teach the boy to shoot. I'll be home when I can. (Yes, I'm still using the code names. Just because we were handed an Earth-sized hand-basket is no call to let go of security procedures.) I suppose this will teach Hyperactive Lad to complain that he is bored of summer vacation already.

((This is a Zombie Invasion post, so take with plenty of grains of salt.))


melo_annechen: (Default)

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