Tuesday was kind of a busy day for me. I got shot when I interceded in a domestic dispute, then I was attacked by a knife-wielding vagrant, then I shot a robbery suspect but didn't see his partner, who took me out with a shotgun.

Then I went to lunch.

I guess I should start at the beginning.

I was on my way to the police academy in Elysian Park for a video-simulator training session on deadly force, when I heard on the radio that eight current and former officials from the city of Bell had been arrested in the ongoing corruption scandal.

As you can imagine, this put me in a law-and-order frame of mind. About the same time that I was strapping on my service belt, complete with Glock semiautomatic pistol, pepper spray and two batons, officers on the other side of the county were frog-walking former Bell City Manager Robert Rizzo out of his house in handcuffs and bashing in the door of Mayor Oscar Hernandez with a battering ram.

It was hard not to cheer those developments, so yes, maybe I was a little gung-ho going into the simulator room, where the police had offered to show me what it's like out there in the real world. Just over two weeks ago in Westlake, an officer shot and killed a man armed with a knife.

An investigation is ongoing, but the shooting has drawn protests from angry demonstrators. The police wanted to show me and a couple of other reporters how tough it can be out there under pressure.

Sgt. Andy Markel explained the LAPD deadly force policy before running a video in which actors play threatening suspects and I would have to decide whether to use deadly force (recruits go through 12 hours of this). I could shoot to kill a suspect if I thought he was likely to seriously injure or kill me or someone else. Or to prevent a crime that might lead to serious injury or death. Or to prevent the escape of a violent fleeing felon. Otherwise, I was supposed to hold my fire.

As they dimmed the lights and started the video, I had my hands at my sides. Then a narrator explained that I'd just arrived at the scene of a domestic dispute. My 9-millimeter Glock, if I used it, wasn't really loaded, but it would shoot a laser to let me know if I'd hit my target.

A couple were seated in a silver Pontiac from which a woman emerged, screaming, from the passenger side. As she ran away, I identified myself as a cop and ordered the guy to step out of the car. He did so and quickly leveled a gun at me. Before I could reach for mine, I was dead.

"You failed to react appropriately to a threat," said the cheery message on the screen.

I wished, a little too late, that I'd drawn my weapon earlier, and I definitely should have. Besides, the suspect appeared to be on the same diet as Bob "Ratso" Rizzo of Bell, so it was a target I could have hit with one eye closed.

Next up, I responded to a call about a suspicious vehicle at a warehouse. When I arrived, a guy was running out of the building with a satchel. I ordered him to stop; he kept going. Then his partner came out of the building with a shotgun, yelling something at someone still inside.

I shot him twice. The laser showed that I got him once in the top of the head and once in the neck.

Mary Grady, LAPD director of public information, asked if I was interested in becoming a reserve officer.

In my third encounter, a man who looked like Minnesota Vikings quarterback Brett Favre was standing in the middle of the street talking to himself, which is exactly what Favre ought to be doing after his horrible start this year.

I ordered the man out of the street, but he was in a psychotic state, pulled a knife and charged me like a bull. All I could think was, "Don't shoot a mentally ill man." But as he closed in and ignored my pleas, I shot him in the chest, hoping it was a knife, after all, and not a stick or a toy.

I waited too long, Markel said. The suspect might have stabbed me even after being shot. In retrospect, I wished I'd used my Taser or pepper spray. But the spray would have been tough to use effectively, and the Taser wouldn't have been a cinch, either. Under different circumstances, a non-lethal beanbag shotgun might have been a better choice, but I didn't have one.

We estimated that I had 1.5 seconds to act once the man charged me.

Why not shoot at the knife, or at his legs, as people often suggest after a police shooting?

Because it's easy to miss, and then you're a sitting duck.

When each scenario was done, including one in which I shot a robbery suspect but was killed by his partner, I couldn't remember exactly what the suspects said or did. I was too focused on survival and public protection to process every detail. I made my decision, hoped for the best, and then immediately second-guessed everything I'd just done.

I still don't know whether the Westlake officer acted appropriately or not. But I do know that I'd hate to have to handle that sort of pressure every day.

I would have given anything to have slapped the cuffs on Rizzo on Tuesday, though, or to work the battering-ram detail.

Read a related story from ABC 7 Eyewitness News reporter John North, with video, here.