This week at work was our "annual safety refresher course."
So, for the entire day on Tuesday I sat through a class learning how to be more safe.
I have been so busy at work lately that I was not looking forward to giving up a whole day listening to the basics of CPR, first aid, industrial accident prevention, how to use a defribulator, etc etc.
I was doing fine, sitting in class allowing my mind to wander all around the universe (like it usually does) when the words "this next presentation will be extremely graphic" snapped me back to earth.
To say the next 45 minutes after that was graphic would be an understatement. We were forced to watch a video of what happens to someone when they come into contact with 7200 volts.
Trust me when I say, its not fun. I had to sit through about 35 slides of what 3rd degree burns look like, with detailed descriptions of infection, pus, "charred skin"
After what seemed like long enough, I had to leave the room. I couldn't take it.
Keep in mind, I was sitting amongst a group of tough guys. Most of them are members of our service crew. These are men that work on big equipment all day, with big manly tools and wrenches. They think nothing of working outside in the freezing cold, or the scorching summer heat pulling large engines to pieces and putting them back together. All of them bear the mark of tough mechanics, big thick-skinned hands and fingers, usually with a permanent grey stain from the oil and grease. Manly men. They drive big service trucks full of cool tools and hammers. They get the job done, pain, weather, dirt, blood or not.
And then there's me. Sitting in my nice pressed pants and ironed white business shirt, with my shoes nicely polished for work. I get upset because the black ink on my deskpad calendar sometimes makes my cuff's a little dirty when I type. The sleeves on my shirt always have a nice crisp pressed line running from the shoulder to the wrist. I like that, and when I see it in the office bathroom mirror it gives me a feeling of satisfaction. I may even twist my outstreched arm a little and take another look at how nice and straight it is today. I like my cubicle nice and organized, I personalized it with a few toys and gadgets I've found in my travels and things from home, you know so that you can have that nice blend of professional but fun. I guess I hope that my co-workers walk past it and think to themselves, "wow, what a nice cubicle, the perfect blend of professional, but yet fun!" And don't you dare get into my company car with dirty, oily shoes, there may be floormats there, but they need to be clean.
I suppose these guys would call me a "suit" If I were them, I'd call me a "suit" too.
As one would suspect with a room full of tough guys, watching the pictures soon became a contest of who could watch longer without cringing, or looking away.
There's them - stonefaced, emotionless.
There's me: "Seriously, I think I am going to pass out, I cant watch this anymore, I am feeling lightheaded, oh that is just nasty, please someone get me some water, just breathe, breathe man!!"
And then, I have to get up and walk out, I just cant look any more, and the commentary is even worse. There is no escape. Words like, infection, blood, pus, pain, gangrene, fill the air around me.
I tried to make it look like I needed to go to the bathroom, but I think the fact that I was covered in sweat, breathing heavily and as white as a ghost gave me away. Maybe my comment "I cant watch this anymore" didn't help either as I bolted out.
After about 10 minutes in the cool air outside, I felt better.
Now I had to go back in and face my destiny.
As I stepped back inside, one of the guys said "Hey Sean, you missed the best part"
Raucous laughter filled the room.
A hearty slap on the back from our service manager made me feel a little better.
Mechanics: 1
Suits: None
Fortunately for me, all of these big strong guys are really great guys. They will do anything to get the job done. I am amazed many times at their level of experience, pride and dedication to their company, and craft. In an age where everything is run by a computer somewhere, there is something to be said for folks who use their own hands all day, everyday to make a living.
Well, I feel safer I guess. I have a new regard for electricity. I learned how to use the heart defribulator that they have at the mall.
So be safe
And remember:
"A safe worker is a happy worker"
(Taken from a factory I visited in Mexico)
Sean.
