S. CPR

I was administering the CPR practical test to twenty-five or so students when the department secretary banged on the closed door.
“Coach Parham, Ron McKeel is in the parking lot, and he looks like he’s dying from a heart attack.”
My class looked at their noble instructor. No way out, I ran to the lot, and she was right. Or it looked like a heart attack.
I knelt down next to a fraternity brother, a friend, and my own “examination.” The eyes of seventy people who’d gathered were grading me.
“Tilt the head, open the airwaves”, was step one and I employed it properly. As I did I could sense Ron starting to puke as I turned his head. His breakfast eggs came up and out.
I remembered his serious diabetes problem, and we both began to breath better. The A.D. and basketball coach were watching, slightly green tinted.

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