There are no pictures for this post, and you'll thank me. For many reasons.
Back in October Dan was signed up for the BSA Wilderness First Aid course with a friend. It's a two part program with one class in October and then a two day class in November. After signing up, the friend had complications with his schedule for the second part, which meant that he couldn't do any of it. Dan must have had a conversation in his head that went something like this:
Who could I get to do this training with me? It has to be someone who loves camping in November. BSA is requiring that two members of any group going on a high adventure activity have this training, so it ought to be someone in my group. It should be someone whose spouse is home to watch the kids. I know! I'll get Jill to do this with me!
And thus our adventure began.
We spent the first part of the course at North Seattle Community College. We covered such delightful topics as flail chest, heart attack, shock, head and spinal injuries, and how to walk upon a wilderness scene where first aid is needed, but any rescue help is days out, and learned how to best take care of the situation and patient/s. It reminded me a lot of my CERT course that I did about 6 years ago.
We arrived at Camp Pigott at 7 pm Friday night. Previously, Dan casually mentioned to me that I would have to sleep with the 3 other women who took the course. I casually mentioned back that the instructor had said that there were campsites available and that I was not sleeping with women when my spouse was available. So we took our big old backpacks up past the cabins (loosely termed as such) and headed to the campsites. I think I died on the trail and that my spirit lives on corporeal. It was cold and the backpack (and my lack of exercise and weight) hurt my chest so badly that I thought that the others would have some real time first aid practice.
We went back down to the lodge and while I did my CPR course, Dan went out and practiced situations.
Then they fed us hot cookies.
After which we footed it back up to our tent only to discover that my treacherous water bottle had tipped over and leaked out onto the floor of the tent. We cleaned it up, put on our wool socks, and hunkered down in our mummy bags. It wasn't as bad it could have been. With 7 + years of Scout camping under his belt, Dan has the good stuff. Even though my pillow froze to the side of the tent, I slept as blissfully as I could for essentially being outside, on the ground, and claustrophobically encased in a mummy bag. We woke up with the birds the next morning to a clear sky and fog settling down in the lower areas. It was lovely.
All of yesterday we spent learning more first aid. And now comes the part where you are glad there is no photographic evidence. 50 or so unwashed men, 4 unwashed women, and ghoulish pictures of injured people. There was a funk of manly odor hovering over the group.
Our lessons included frost bite, hypothermia, anaphylaxis, drowning, altitude sickness, heat stroke and exhaustion, bone fractures, lightening strikes, and probably a lot of other things that I can't remember right now. We practiced wrapping 'wounds' and caring for 'victims' that we happened upon. Be convinced, we were so crappy that anyone we wander into or anyone in our group that has an accident will probably die, as will we.
What did I take away from this training? It really emphasized our mortality. It emphasized that bad things do happen to people far away from professional medical care. It also emphasized that there are ways to mitigate and manage the damage. Here is what is important: have the stuff on hand to care for somebody, but this is limited to what you can realistically carry on a long hiking, biking, waterway trip. Be creative with the supplies available. Get training and review it often. You might not need it, and hopefully never will, but even a nominal amount of training will benefit the group.
But, please don't get hurt around me.
Unless you bring me hot cookies.
