In the Cotswolds village of Upper Slaughter, a General Post Office K-6 former telephone kiosk now contains a defibrillator.
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In the Cotswolds village of Upper Slaughter, a General Post Office K-6 former telephone kiosk now contains a defibrillator.
A Bad Guide
And it’s none too soon is all we are prepared to say at this time.
I see them everywhere. They have one of them next to the ATMs at the bank outlet just down the street. A sign on it says something like “you can’t go wrong”, but I’ll be damned before I apply it to someone who has passed out there.
I simple can’t believe that there are no circumstances in which it is wrong to attempt to defibrillate. What about if there is no fibrillation ? How the fock am I to know.
I am convinced this is a scam by an equipment manufacturer, paid for with tax dollars.
Hearts are aflutter in Upper Slaughter.
It is wrong to attempt to defibrillate immediately when there are others in line ahead of one for the defibrillation. Small box after all. Defibrillating not a communal activity.
BTW important to check label; if a Tesla self defibrillating defibrillator, beware undesirable side effects; be ready to flee kiosk on short notice.
(Also, check kiosk door handle for suspicious gel stains.)
I hadn’t noticed you were back to bad guiding. My heart is fibrillating with joy.
I wrote a reply to this but it was so disturbing apparently that my router broke. Now I’m reconnected. I hadn’t realised defibrillators were everywhere. Come winter, perhaps we can use them to make toast. From now on, I will carry two slices of bread in my wallet.
Goodness, I see that I can now “like” comments, as on Facebook. In order to save (my) time I decree that all comments are implicitly liked by me on this site unless I specifically say otherwise.
Carry on.
Perhaps it’s the surprise; the unexpected sight of a phone box that’s causing the heart attacks in Upper Slaughter. The cure is causing the illness.
A fully automated AED automatically diagnoses the heart rhythm and advises the user to stand back while the shock is automatically given.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Defibrillation#Automated_external_defibrillator_(AED)
Some types of AEDs come with advanced features, such as a manual
No, sorry. such as a manual override
A pedal override would be even better. Feet are stronger, and you can the hands to call the ambulance.
I hope nobody picks the wrong handle when calling.
I like the idea of a queue forming to use the defibrillator.
I wonder if defibrillation is addictive for some people, as jogging and bungee jumping are reputed to be. You pass out, then wake up with a pleasant tingling in your fingers.
Surely that’s what you get from one of those sex things like putting a plastic bag over your head; something I was always warned never to do. You might be able to start a car that has a flat battery or make toast, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up for much more.
Crown, whoever it was warned you off attempting sex with a plastic bag over your head surely had your best interests in mind.
In the 19C there was only masturbation to worry about as inimical to happy families. Now there are so many weird alternatives that one hardly knows where to begin. It seems that either happy families or sex has to be struck off the list of appropriate activities.
Not to speak of open-air defibrillation. Or would it be al fresco? (If plastic bag removed?)
If someone is having a seizure and you defibrillate her or him, what happens?
You probably get thanked a lot. Maybe they give you a present or a small amount of money. Is it a seizure? I thought the heart just stopped beating and you shouted “Stand back!” and gave it a few electric jolts using ping-pong paddles. That’s what happens in tv hospital dramas, which is where I get my medical info. If you lined up five or six people with heart attacks and made them hold hands, you could probably start all their hearts with one zapp and save electricity.
Oh, I see. If they’re having a seizure rather than a failing heart? It might work. The next time you see someone having a seizure, and you’re near a K-6 phone box, you should whip out the paddles and see what happens.
What I mean is that each time someone collapses isn’t necessarily a heart attack. And I was wondering if giving electrical shocks by people who do not have a medical training couldn’t actually harm the person who had an undiagnosed problem.
Forced to admit am given tiny electrical shocks by G-d on an all too regular basis, perhaps G-d’s way of getting even for palpable decline in number of not yet vandalized public phone boxes. To be jolted while viewing unsorted graffiti could actually harm a person who had no undiagnosed medical training but an addiction to televised medical drama… and perhaps one foot in a bucket of water as well.
However don’t see any buckets on hand in Upper Slaughter.
Also must I remain the only one who is unable to look at this photo without the accompanying silent thought: “novichok”. (Perhaps similar to well known psychological phenomenon of not being able to not think about the word “hippoptamus” for five seconds?)
They’re quite cunning you know those Russians.
Not to spell the word hippopotamus correctly, for that matter.
“River horse” so much easier for the digitally challenged.
Nor indeed to spell the word nor, not really such a hard word after all. There, you see I’ve now managed it.
And while we’re on silly things…
Is it only me who sees the How To Wipe Out Deep Fat Every Morning advert over and over… why is this happening… my dear Crown, one should hope you have not stoopt so low as “monetizing”?
Too too deep and fat and wet that. Needs a bit of a friendly jolt I’d say. Really don’t we all.
You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot deny that George Washington’s dentures were made of hippopotamus tusks.
I think I can Trump monetize with demonetize.
https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2018/08/20/tom-clark-1941-2018/
Tom Clark commented here so often. I don’t know if you’re aware of his death – just 5 days after his last comment here.
I’m sorry to hear that, Nan. He was a thoughtful and funny man.
Nan Crawford, I remember you from your teabags of goat-poo compost in (possibly) Palo Alto. Thank you so much for letting me know about Tom. God, how depressing. And awful for Angelica and their daughter. I think I remember a few years ago he was hit by a car or bus, perhaps on the way home from the cinema in Berkeley. He was an extraordinary man, always so nice to me. The blog he made with Angelica, Beyond The Pale, is – for its photographs – the most beautiful and well-designed I’ve ever seen. I’m so sorry he’s dead.