Don't Call on Me to Save Your Life

I've always been rather curious about the meaning of the term, 'Busman's Holiday'. In fact, I've hardly ever heard anyone ever say it. But I know it exists. It was the title of a Dorothy M. Sayers crime novel of the 1930s that I don't remember reading.

But  even though I really don't know the exact meaning of 'Busman's Holiday', I like to think that I've just had one. You know, fun & carefree, or about as carefree as a Woman who's been Dumped for Maybe Ten Weeks can get.

As you can probably work out from the picture, the holiday is Now Over, although you may think that practising CPR on an armless mannequin is a Fun Holiday Activity. After all, I did visit the cemetery whilst on holiday. 

Yes, it was Back in the Saddle this morning & first cab off the rank in a Pupil Free Day was the  CPR Refresher Course. Whilst I was sitting there listening to the Hunky Manmuffin from the Royal SurfLifesaving Association tell us gruesome tales   about  the dangers of saving lives, I wondered how many times have I actually sat through this material.  And when was the first time I heard it. I think I was  about twelve &  since then, I've probably heard it on average of once every couple of years.

And guess what?

I still don't know a thing. I was even pumping the mannequin in the wrong spot.

But don't think I don't have a Back-Up Plan. If one of my students suddenly went unconscious I'd run out of the classroom screaming for help. Or if I was perhaps a little calmer, I would simply direct one of my other students to perform CPR. I'm sure someone around me would know it.

But it just occurred to me that if a student went unconscious, they'd probably be dead before I'd notice.