Abstract
To be honest, the only reason why I went on the life support course was to get the tick in my revalidation box. It was the 15th such course I have attended. The first few had been part of a schoolgirl obsession with learning to save lives: girl guides, St John Ambulance Brigade, lifesaving club. By the time I was 12, I had filled a shelf with trophies won for cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR). You could have timed my chest compressions with a metronome. This early training carried me through assessments at medical school and beyond, including a short case for the Membership of the Royal College of Physicians. As the 3-yearly refresher courses became compulsory, I turned up, repeated my …
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