Who Will Help Me Defibrillate This Blonde Dummy?

The chemistry teacher smacks the figure repeatedly on his shoulder as his hand cups the man’s head. “ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY??” he asks intently. The figure lies motionless, unresponsive and crippled on the floor; his face is vacant and still. Nothing would rouse him. His blond hair is tousled around his perfect features. His gray running track suit jacket that perfectly matches his pants is unzipped revealing perfect pecks.

“Who will help me?” says the chemistry teacher calmly.

“I will help you,” responds a Japanese teacher intently.

“Please bring me the AED!” replies the chemistry teacher. But there is an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Yes. I will get the AED!” retorts the Japanese teacher intently. He walks halfway to the door, stops and stands there for a while looking at the scene.

He returns shortly. “I have brought the AED,” he states staunchly. However, the blonde figure is in need of more than an Automated External Defibrillator. He’s also missing a leg, an arm and is about to be shoved headfirst in a large trunk along with the other two dummies that the teachers have been practicing CPR on and mock shocking.

Two volunteers from the Japanese Red Cross talk at a group of us, illustrating the proper method of defibrillator-ing someone back to life. Only, my confidence in them is somewhat shattered when one volunteer can’t figure out how turn on the training mode defibrillator. She plays around with the large collection of batteries for a while, finds an empty compartment in the machine, stares at it for a while and then, completely bewildered, goes to ask her colleague for help. He, too, fumbles with the machine, poking at random buttons on the front, as an automated saccharine female Japanese voice attempts to guide him through the process every time he opens and closes the lid. Finally, he catches what I noticed some time ago: he has neglected to turn it on.

“HA HA HA. Look at that. Okay there we go.”

The teachers continue on their merry way – applying a sheet of plastic with a mouthpiece to the dummy before attempting to inflate its chest cavity. When it is not their turn, their mouthpieces fall to the floor, facedown, neglected and completely defeating the purpose of having a mouth piece as germs also reside on the floor regardless of whether or not you wear your shoes in there. Three dummies lie in a row – all are blonde. All are men. All have comfy trunks waiting for them when the whole debacle is over.

Every bit of the process is scripted. Just as there is a set phrase for beginning a meal or completing a marathon, there is a set phrase for defibrillating someone. Three times one must ask the victim if they are “OK.” Then two people must be asked to help with the set phrase that demands an AED machine. Whoever brings the machine back must state, “I have brought the AED machine.”

If a teacher forgot the appropriate phrase or altered in the least, he or she was gently reminded and prodded by the instructors. The phrases were also provided on the board with the correct number of times each step should be done, as well as well as in pamphlet format with cartoon drawings.