I learned how to use an epi pen.
As part of my subtle but ultimate quest to get more girls playing hockey (that’s ice hockey, not running or in-line hockey, they’re different) I participated in an 8-hour sports medic course on Saturday (far more training than most cities require staff to serve food that can kill).
When the instructor, who’s the medic for girls rugby league teams, got to the part about, if you’re there and have the knowledge, you have the responsibility to help, I glanced again at the leftover deli-based sandwiches that had been provided for lunch and noted they’d been out at least an hour after we had eaten.
I saw a refrigerator, so just got up and went to move the leftovers – that many were planning to take home.
But that fridge wasn’t cold.
I spoke up and said, if anyone wants to take those sandwiches home to their families, they need to be refrigerated; is there a refrigerator that works?
I briefly explained why, and how I had knowledge, so had a responsibility to act.
But the class of 10 was whispering, what an a-hole.
That’s the boringness of how tragedies are avoided.