If this blog is about anything, it’s saving lives.
First we taught you how to motorboat that collapsed fatty back to life. Now we bring you the following important message:
Swallowing your own tongue is pretty much impossible, so epileptic people kindly ask that you stop shoving things in their mouths during seizures.
From the Times:
Ryan Brett, the director of education for the Epilepsy Institute in New York, said people who witness a seizure often reach for a wallet, a spoon, or a dirty object to stick in the person’s mouth, much to the chagrin of epilepsy patients. He said he frequently conducted first-aid workshops in which he had to disabuse people of the myth.
“The only thing that happens when something is put in the mouth is you end up cutting someone’s gums or injuring the teeth,” he said. “We get complaints all the time.”
I imagine the only thing worse than having a seizure is having a seizure while some old guy at the park shoves his glasses case in your mouth. So next time you see someone having a seizure, just move along and pretend nothing is happening. Ooh look! They have a Cinnabon here now?
The Claim: During a Seizure, You Can Swallow Your Tongue [New York Times]
Because no single blog on the bloggernet is better than us at creating recurring blog features that we never fall through with (RIP “Pax Gastronomica,” “Tuesday Tubby Tearfest,” and “Ask Fidel”), I proudly present a new segment called Old Ad Wednesday.
In the first installment of Old Ad Wednesday, we bring you this cheerful indoctrination into the magical world of childhood diabetes — sponsored by the hilariously-named Soda Pop Board of America. We picture a bunch of old men in red striped suits and bow ties, taking breaks between board meetings to refill their root beer floats.
The text of the ad is as follows:
How soon is too soon?
Not soon enough. Laboratory tests over the last few years have proven that babies who start drinking soda during that early formative period have a much higher chance of gaining acceptance and “fitting in” during those awkward pre-teen and teen years. So, do yourself a favor. Do your child a favor. Start them on a strict regimen of sodas and other sugary carbonated beverages right now, for a lifetime of guaranteed happiness.
What’s crazy isn’t that the Soda Pop Board’s laboratories were so sophisticated. What’s crazy is that their plan worked, and the people of America gained self-esteem beyond the limits of the imagination.
The King has found himself a worthy Queen
Well done, America. Well done, Soda Pop Board.
Here’s a bit of service journalism for your Tuesday morning: The American Heart Association now says you should not blow awkwardly into the mouth of the corpulent bastard that collapsed in front of you at Wendy’s. Instead you should go right for the boobies and motorboat those sons of bitches. With rapid-fire chest compressions, that is:
Hands-only CPR calls for uninterrupted chest presses — 100 a minute — until paramedics take over or an automated external defibrillator is available to restore a normal heart rhythm. This action should be taken only for adults who unexpectedly collapse, stop breathing and are unresponsive. The odds are that the person is having cardiac arrest — the heart suddenly stops — which can occur after a heart attack or be caused by other heart problems.
But what about the old way of doing things? When Pax Arcana was a lifeguard (1992 – 1994), I was taught to alternate 15 compressions and two breaths into the lungs of the unresponsive victim. As it turns out, the idea of getting that intimate with a soon-to-be-dead person kind of skeeves people out:
Anonymous surveys show that people are reluctant to do mouth-to-mouth, Ewy said, partly because of fear of infections.
“When people are honest, they’re not going to do it,” he said. “It’s not only the yuck factor.”
It’s about time someone in the medical community came forward and told the truth about this. Giving people mouth-to-mouth is gross if they’re not hot girls with minty-fresh breath. I remember when Mrs. Krauss collapsed during adult swim. We got her out of the pool OK, but the idea of giving her mouth-to-mouth was off-putting to say the least. Yuck.
Everything turned out OK, though, because apparently Mrs. Krauss liked to keep dozens of those little airplane bottles of vodka in her pool bag. Score!
In memory of Edna Krauss, 1928 – 1994.
Experts now recommend hands-only CPR [AP]
Today’s Times has an article on the Neti Pot, the goofy ceramic contraption your turquoise-bedazzled holistic healing aunt sticks in her nose, sending a tide of salty booger water out the other nostril. Like this:
Pax Arcana is typically dismissive of faddish voodoo magic cures like ginseng, echinacea, and dentistry. However, there seems to be something to this Neti Pot business, and it’s not just annoying Whole Foods denizens saying so.
At the risk of driving Mama Pax over the edge, here’s a pretty serious indictment of common practices of veterinarians, who have gotten awfully creative in coming up with ways to part you with your money.
From the article:
Two trends are making a visit to your veterinarian an opportunity for endless guilt. One is the increasing acceptance of the notion that pets are family members (thus the movement to change the word owner to guardian). The other is the convergence of veterinary and human medicine—pets can get chemotherapy, dialysis, organ transplants, hip replacement, and braces for their teeth.