Teaching Was an Ideal Job Until I Had to Learn to Stop the Bleed

I walked into the school cafeteria on the first day of school for teachers ready for an in-service. I anticipated no surprises and at first, everything appeared normal. Tables held donuts of every variety: chocolate, maple, jelly-filled, cinnamon-sugar. I hovered at this table. Several health-conscious colleagues gathered around the fruit tray. We all consumed coffee as few of us had been awake to watch the sunrise all summer.

The agenda forecasted a standard formula for a meeting.

Wait. What? Stop the Bleed Training? Why do I need to know that?

It was fun rejoining old friends and sharing stories. After the break, we returned to the hard-plastic seats with coffee cups filled to the brims. Nurse Bev and the school resource officer greeted us and introduced several visitors: a police officer, three firemen, and two emergency medical technicians. My curiosity spiked.

The presentation began with a video on emergency preparedness with pictures of supplies and brief explanations of their purposes. Once an item was mentioned in the video, the school nurse handed the object to someone in the first row to be passed around and examined by the teachers. Every teacher understands the importance of making learning valuable by providing tactile experiences.

Splinting broken bones and wrapping small cuts seemed important. Small injuries happen in a building of 1200 teenagers so it is best to be prepared. A memory of when a boy tripped a girl as she walked to the pencil sharpener popped into my mind. However, when images of bloody wounds being bandaged and faces reflecting trauma flashed on the screen, the mood in the room quickly turned serious.

In thirty years of teaching, I never needed to address severe hemorrhaging, bullet wounds, or address the fear of multiple children dealing with fear during a lockdown. The pictures in the video embedded pain and panic in our minds. There was no longer any need for coffee to stay awake.

“Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.” — Benjamin Franklin

Following the video, any veteran teacher could have predicted what would happen next. The school staff divided into groups and received instructions to rotate through stations that provided hands-on practice of skills needed in case of a mass shooting or other major crises. We placed our coffee aside and went to work.

Each rotation addressed a different area of potential need:

• General first aid including a review of CPR procedures
• Use of medical devices such as Epi-pens and inhalers combined with an examination of the contents of our emergency buckets housed in each classroom
• Safe approaches for handling bloodborne pathogens
• Techniques to wrap and secure a wound coupled with a demonstration on how to use the contents of a Stop the Bleed Triage Kit as well as the significance of each item: permanent marker, latex-free gloves, tourniquet, bandages, shears, gauze dressing.
• Strategies to stop bleeding, both minor and severe hemorrhaging. This one struck me the hardest. As I practiced how to effectively stuff a toilet paper roll with gauze, I told myself, “They must be joking. This was not my area of study at the university. The paper roll simulated an arm losing blood that required immediate attention. I wasn’t laughing — nobody laughed.

I have shared this in-service experience in the past, but this morning while watching morning TV news, my heart broke. It seems as we prepare to deal with the effects of a mass shooting, strategies to stop such terrible bloodshed are failing. We must move beyond stopping the bleeding to learning how to stop the shooting.

Acceptance of this new reality is unacceptable.

The meaning of the cliché, “The more things change, the more they stay the same,” carries a valuable message. With the increase in violence, Americans are learning to accept mass shootings. This as a part of our current events with few preventative or legislative changes. Acceptance of this new reality is unacceptable. This year summer vacation begins with a cloud hanging over the minds of our students leaving them wondering, “What will next year bring?”

____________________________________________________

Brenda Mahler is a teacher who shares personal experience to inform others about life.

Please Don't Bubble Wrap your Children

School Lockdowns Made Me Feel Like a Fish in a Fish Tank

Do Red Flag Laws In Schools Stop Shooters?

School Shootings Tell the Same Story with Different Characters