We went to lunch with the kid and his husband today, as is our wont on Fridays, and Dr Skull choked on a bite of chicken. I looked up and saw his desperate expression and how he was grabbing at his chest and throat. "Are you all right?" I said, and then more alarmed, "Are you choking?"
He did not answer, just looked more desperate.
I jumped up. "He's choking!" I shouted at the restaurant. "Who knows the Heimlich?"
I looked wildly at the waiter, who backed away looking terrified. "I don't know it!" he said.
"Who knows the Heimlich?" I yelled louder. "He's choking!"
A woman got up. "I do. Move out of the way."
"Move!" I said. That was my contribution. Everyone scattered from her path.
She had to do it several times before he had choked up everything -- there was vomit involved, if you've never seen it done -- first while he was sitting and then getting him to stand up. It took like five minutes. It was absolutely terrifying, for me, though also for him.
When we were finally sitting down and he had cold compresses all over him -- that was also the woman's suggestion, since apparently choking makes your body heat go up -- I saw that the entire restaurant had cleared out. We all thanked the woman about a billion times. I forgot to get her name.
Anyway, I'm signing up for a CPR/Choking class, which is given by the city.
Aside from the time the kid, at about eight months old, choked on a pistachio, this was the most terrifying five minutes of my life.
Don't worry, I left a big tip.


