I recently took part in a shooting simulation exercise at my place of employment.
I would like to preface this post with my most sincere respect, blessings and sorrow for all those ever involved in a real shooting situation. The scars you carry from those events and losses are unfathomable to me and I pray to never experience them in real life.
It pains me that we even have to prepare for such atrocities. However, that is our reality.
As I am of the “prepper” mentality, I was very excited about this drill.
I constantly foresee and plan for all sorts of disasters and mishaps.
We have a home intruder plan. My family knows our meeting place in case our home or neighborhood were to become inaccessible.
I carry a window-smashing/seatbelt cutting tool on my keychain. Water, snacks, blankets, spare hats and gloves, tools, meds and a battery charger wait in my van for any calamity.
I’ve learned several self defense moves over the years and I feel pretty confident in my ability to protect myself if necessary and that doesn’t even include firearms, although I am capable of that as well.
My point is that I was so psyched about participating in this drill. I looked forward to this for weeks. I was dying to test my reaction to the simulation.
On the morning the exercise was scheduled, I planned carefully. I wore comfortable pants that would allow me to crouch or hide as needed. I halved my normal coffee intake so as to not add caffeine to the anticipated adrenaline rush.
Being staged as a front desk person, I had expected being “shot” immediately. Throughout the week leading up to this drill, I repeatedly told my coworkers that I hoped I wasn’t the first one “shot.” I wanted to experience the full exercise.
As we were all in our staged places, awaiting the moment when the, unbeknownst to us, “gunman” would arrive, we started relaxing and chatting.
I suddenly heard a man yelling.
This is where my foreknowledge of the event failed reality.
My body didn’t wait until my brain actually comprehended the situation. I immediately ducked under my desk.
I never saw the gun. So in reality, I would never have ducked under my desk. I can’t say what might have happened, had I not jumped the gun so to speak. I might have been one of the first casualties.
If a ref was present, he would’ve called a false-start for sure.
It happened so fast. One minute there was yelling and as I was already half way under my desk, I heard, “Bang, you’re dead.”
That got the adrenaline going.
Seconds before the “gunman” passed my desk, another lady was trying to get under my desk with me. I squished myself as far back as I could to give her room to hide.
He saw her.
Dragging her by the arm, the “gunman” screamed at her while shoving her into a room behind my hiding place.
It got strange for me here.
My goal had been to see the whole exercise pan out.
As there was no other outlet, I knew the “gunman” would eventually have to come back and I would have been in his direct line of vision.
Knowing I didn’t want to leave the exercise, had I been really thinking, I would have surmised that if I stayed there I’d be either taken as hostage or “shot”, thereby securing my place in the drill.
What really happened is my flight instinct took over.
I find this fascinating because I don’t think I’ve EVER in a real life situation had that happen. As a matter of fact, I had truly believed I was missing the flight instinct.
Memories of numerous situations come to mind where I should have fled, but failed to do so.
So as the “gunman” took my coworker into that other room, I knew I could escape. I listened for the distance of his voice and took the chance. In a crouch-run, I headed for the door.
I recall thinking, “I’m going to get “shot” in the back. He’s going to “shoot” me in the back.”
Once at the door, I felt disappointed. I felt like the first kid out at dodge ball.
While this was a known, planned exercise, it felt very real.
My adrenaline kicked in instantaneously. My brain was making the escape plan before I was even conscious of it. Fight or flight. So weird.
In retrospect I can only surmise that in my prior experiences, had a firearm been involved, my reactions may have differed.
I escaped! I guess I should be proud of that. My instincts did what they are supposed to do and I got out.
That’s how I should have felt, instead I was devastated. I had to wait for the debriefing in an auditorium for two hours while the rest of the participants got to go through the whole deal, swat team and all.
Really? Who knew…if only I had been “shot” I could have remained there for the whole time. GRR! Maybe next time.
You might be wondering what recipe I could possibly tie into this post. (at least I hope you are!)
Any guesses? Who guessed Jello “shots”?
Watermelon Jello Shots
How darn cute are these?
I found this recipe and many more which I will have to try (as a courtesy for my readers of course) on www.thekitchn.com
I changed the recipe a bit, as I’m not a fan of vodka. I prefer to spend time with the Captain!
What You Need:
1-3oz box watermelon flavored Jello
1 c boiling water
1/2 c Captain Morgan Original Spiced Rum
1/2 c watermelon flavored liqueur
What You Do:
Cut limes in half and remove all pulp.
Turn them inside out and remove the rind with a small knife.
After turning them right side out again, place them in a mini muffin pan.
Dissolve the Jello in the boiling water.
Add the rum and liqueur and mix well.
Pour into lime halves and chill for a few hours.
Using a very sharp knife, place limes on a cutting board face down and slice into halves.
Eat responsibly! 🙂
Disclaimer: Although I work at Wentworth Douglass Hospital any opinions expressed in this post do not reflect the values or opinions of Wentworth Douglass Hospital.