How I Came To Be Naked In A Family Restaurant
By Bart Vogelzang

Always remove the source of danger to rescuer and victim before commencing life saving operations.

Our vanload of recently graduated teens had left early in the day. We were all volunteering at the regional summer athletic games in a town 3 hours drive to the north. Once there, we were spread far and wide over the various venues, from track, broad jump, high jump, pool vaulting, to swimming and rowing events. By lunchtime we were each feeling the effects of sun exposure. One of us had helped package up and transport a young runner with a broken leg. Fortunately, he was expected be fine.

A B C’s Airways must be checked first, then Breathing, and then Circulation, before doing anything else; life support always goes before injury support.

The last event of the day, the crowd fave, was to be the men’s relay race. The injured runner was part of a team, and if he didn’t participate, they would default. This would be particularly agonizing for them, as they had been considered the favorites before his accident. Amazingly, with brand new cast, and two shiny crutches, he started for them. The crowd gave him a standing ovation when his participation was announced. He started off, seeming to have previously practiced crutch racing; the crowd roared its approval. With the baton passed, his teammates completed the run. Even though they didn’t win, they got the loudest applause, for their second place finish.

Remove the source of heat from any burn, as soon as possible, and cool the area quickly.

We gathered together for the trip home, everyone excited and buoyed by the good things we had seen and done. Hungry and thirsty, we dropped in at a family restaurant, the smart thing to do before our 3 hour drive home. Not the least bit concerned about other customers, we joked, shouted excitedly, and made pests of ourselves with the wait staff. Our orders were taken, and drinks were served.

“Incoming!” I looked up, to see a glass sugar jar arcing gracefully over the table, at me. Stunned, I couldn’t react before it hit the teapot immediately in front of me. With a crashing sound, the ceramic pot shattered, cascading near boiling water into my crotch. The pain seared me, and my first aid training took over. And that’s how I came to be naked in a family restaurant, with ice water dripping from my nether regions.

© Bart Vogelzang 2008. All rights reserved.