KNR 128 (Just Holding On) by fallenkalina
Jun. 23rd, 2008 08:24 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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sga_flashficTitle: KNR 128 (Just Holding On)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fallenkalina
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Length: 713 words
Summary: Finding out that CPR wasn’t practiced on living people took all the potential fun out of the course anyways.
KNR 128: First Aid was not Rodney’s first choice in college classes. In fact, if it weren’t for the insistence of his undergraduate advisor that he needed one credit hour more in his schedule (and only one tiny credit hour, otherwise he would have filled that space with more lab time) and the only other options were classes that doubled as exercise, he really wouldn’t be taking First Aid at all. His fellow students, if he dared to distinguish them as such, had major such as Kinesiology, an assortment of earnest if stupid liberal arts majors, and Rodney was even more shocked to learn that Athletic Training was an actual degree program and that people took classes in Recreation Management.
Rodney was able to manage his own recreation just fine, particularly since his idea of recreation was sneaking into the labs on holidays.
The class filled the spot and only took up an hour a week and while Rodney read the travesty they called a textbook, filled with graphic images of everything ranging from blood underneath a fingernail to how to deal with a sucking chest wound (which was oh so common in the death-defying field that was astrophysics), during the very first day of the class he still had to go since the graduate student teaching the course graded on participation. Rodney dutifully took notes, while in the margins wrote sarcastic comments about the usefulness of amateur medical voodoo. He only paid about half attention to the lecture while half working on equations and theories.
Finding out that CPR wasn’t practiced on living people took all the potential fun out of the course anyways.
Halfway through the semester the instructor is telling the class about how if a person is telling you that they can’t breathe they are just overreacting. Rodney completely understands both sides of the I-can’t-breathe argument. On one hand, that sort of airway constriction must be terrifying, on the other hand, it was a totally moronic and anti common sense notion. The instructor blinked a couple of times and almost made it to the floor on his own before his muscles tensed up and stick out from his body and shakes and his arms and legs pull as far as they go.
Rodney is out of his seat by the time the rest of the students are wondering what the fuck is going on. Seizures were covered earlier in the semester but the students, older and stupider than himself are buzzing uncomfortably while he pokes at the TA, the muscles convulsing asking, “hey, hey…,” and rolling him over onto his left side and moving an arm and a leg into the recovery position he remembers from page 93. He glanced at the clock, a little late, but it would work while one of the less idiotic of his classmates runs out of the room yelling that she was going to call an ambulance and one of the more idiotic asked if he should hold the head or stick an eraser in Jacobs’s mouth.
“Oh don’t be an idiot. You can’t swallow your tongue in a seizure. It’s biologically impossible.” Rodney mutters a little loudly and shoos the kid away. One of the athletic training majors starts moving objects away from the instructor.
Two minutes later it didn’t seem to be stopping, and the class still was just gaping at their instructor and Rodney, a determined look on his face as he shifted his gaze back to the clock. At two minutes and fifteen seconds, the muscles relaxed and limp against the body of the grad student, Rodney exhaled as he checked for normal breathing.
The paramedics arrive, the office staff arrived, saying that Kirk Jacob has never had a seizure before, and class was dismissed. Rodney hung out in the back of the building, waiting, and when they bring out Jacobs, he swore he could see naked fear in his eyes.
***
Decades later, on some god-forsaken planet in another fucking galaxy, where he’s taping plastic on three sides to the soldier who was supposed to be guarding him (he always forgets the marines names until it is too late, and he hopes he isn't too late) chest, he sees that naked fear again. He forgets that it is his this time.
Author's Note: I had a semester where my fellow students would just suddenly have seizures in the middle of class, including my own first aid course. It was the first thing I thought of when I saw this challenge, along with "What would Rodney do?"
Author:
fallenkalinaGenre: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Length: 713 words
Summary: Finding out that CPR wasn’t practiced on living people took all the potential fun out of the course anyways.
KNR 128: First Aid was not Rodney’s first choice in college classes. In fact, if it weren’t for the insistence of his undergraduate advisor that he needed one credit hour more in his schedule (and only one tiny credit hour, otherwise he would have filled that space with more lab time) and the only other options were classes that doubled as exercise, he really wouldn’t be taking First Aid at all. His fellow students, if he dared to distinguish them as such, had major such as Kinesiology, an assortment of earnest if stupid liberal arts majors, and Rodney was even more shocked to learn that Athletic Training was an actual degree program and that people took classes in Recreation Management.
Rodney was able to manage his own recreation just fine, particularly since his idea of recreation was sneaking into the labs on holidays.
The class filled the spot and only took up an hour a week and while Rodney read the travesty they called a textbook, filled with graphic images of everything ranging from blood underneath a fingernail to how to deal with a sucking chest wound (which was oh so common in the death-defying field that was astrophysics), during the very first day of the class he still had to go since the graduate student teaching the course graded on participation. Rodney dutifully took notes, while in the margins wrote sarcastic comments about the usefulness of amateur medical voodoo. He only paid about half attention to the lecture while half working on equations and theories.
Finding out that CPR wasn’t practiced on living people took all the potential fun out of the course anyways.
Halfway through the semester the instructor is telling the class about how if a person is telling you that they can’t breathe they are just overreacting. Rodney completely understands both sides of the I-can’t-breathe argument. On one hand, that sort of airway constriction must be terrifying, on the other hand, it was a totally moronic and anti common sense notion. The instructor blinked a couple of times and almost made it to the floor on his own before his muscles tensed up and stick out from his body and shakes and his arms and legs pull as far as they go.
Rodney is out of his seat by the time the rest of the students are wondering what the fuck is going on. Seizures were covered earlier in the semester but the students, older and stupider than himself are buzzing uncomfortably while he pokes at the TA, the muscles convulsing asking, “hey, hey…,” and rolling him over onto his left side and moving an arm and a leg into the recovery position he remembers from page 93. He glanced at the clock, a little late, but it would work while one of the less idiotic of his classmates runs out of the room yelling that she was going to call an ambulance and one of the more idiotic asked if he should hold the head or stick an eraser in Jacobs’s mouth.
“Oh don’t be an idiot. You can’t swallow your tongue in a seizure. It’s biologically impossible.” Rodney mutters a little loudly and shoos the kid away. One of the athletic training majors starts moving objects away from the instructor.
Two minutes later it didn’t seem to be stopping, and the class still was just gaping at their instructor and Rodney, a determined look on his face as he shifted his gaze back to the clock. At two minutes and fifteen seconds, the muscles relaxed and limp against the body of the grad student, Rodney exhaled as he checked for normal breathing.
The paramedics arrive, the office staff arrived, saying that Kirk Jacob has never had a seizure before, and class was dismissed. Rodney hung out in the back of the building, waiting, and when they bring out Jacobs, he swore he could see naked fear in his eyes.
***
Decades later, on some god-forsaken planet in another fucking galaxy, where he’s taping plastic on three sides to the soldier who was supposed to be guarding him (he always forgets the marines names until it is too late, and he hopes he isn't too late) chest, he sees that naked fear again. He forgets that it is his this time.
Author's Note: I had a semester where my fellow students would just suddenly have seizures in the middle of class, including my own first aid course. It was the first thing I thought of when I saw this challenge, along with "What would Rodney do?"
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reaction
Date: 2008-06-24 03:32 am (UTC)Re: reaction
Date: 2008-06-25 01:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-24 04:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 01:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-24 06:57 pm (UTC)Leah
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 01:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-24 08:46 pm (UTC)I like how you tied it in with today as well, with the offworld mission.
The way he wishes he learned the marines' names before it was too late is a nice touch too - sooo Rodney.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 01:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 12:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 01:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 01:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-25 01:52 am (UTC)