changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003
ms_pooka

a hug for mother's day.

i started off the day performing the heimlich maneuver.

well, that's not completely true.

i started off the day waking up to brian sneaking out of the bedroom at 7am to go pee. and yes, i am still too lazy to get up in the middle of the night to go to bed when violet wakes up. i am a couch addict and am sadly missing all these nights to co-sleep. and for some reason, brian never complains about this.

he didn't return back to bed, but went to sleep on the couch. i had to get up to crack open some incredibly disgusting wet cat food for ttyki in order to prep her blood for her morning insulin injection. after however long, i sent brian, The Injectionator, in after her.

oliver woke up around 7:30am. he must have been sleeping off yesterday's pool party. violet woke shortly after, as she is largely in synch with her brother's internal alarm. oliver delighted in the fact that all four of us were on the couch.

i didn't want to spend the first half of mother's day trying to get everyone out the door, which is what inevitably happens on any day without a rigid schedule. which is what is happening at this 11:05am moment.

i pulled myself up and trudged to the kitchen. started up the stove top coffee maker. cracked open the fresh gallon jug of caffe lolita brian was kind enough to dash out for last night just before the liquor stores were closing up for the rest of the weekend. i heated up the gigantic yellow skillet and started pancakes for the kids. okay, two went to me.

i was awake by then, listening to whatever mysterious musical concoctions kxt was mixing up.

i checked the kalachandji's menu and was delighted by what i found. VEGAN PEACH COBBLER. bbq tofu. stir fried okra and eggplant. i would put all of it in caps, but i hate to overdo it. brian peed his pants when i casually tossed out JALAPENO PICKLES at the end. he is a fan of pickling. pickled this. pickled that. "you pickled it? well let's have some!"

i finally took off for the bathroom to scrub my armpits and make myself more presentable. i was just putting on my final stroke of eyeliner and deciding to open the bathroom door to check on an indecipherable noise i was hearing in the kitchen when brian came thundering across and i assume banged on the door and choked out some garbled speech. i don't even remember now. i threw open the door and have never been so immediately frightened in my entire life, that i can recall.

i believe my initial impression, which i only realized later, was that he was having a heart attack, or something equally biologically terrifying. his father quite literally dropped dead of a heart attack and brian is walking around in what appears to be the exact same body. he takes much better care of it than his father did of his, but he still has bursts of elevated blood pressure. enough to keep my on my toes with the fear of it.

so there's the door all flung open and my fear blossoming straight out of me like the tentacles of an octopus and brian is literally sputtering, strings of liquid flying from his mouth, panic on his face, his color looking slightly grey. he gets out that he is choking and wants me to hit him on the back and he turns to lean over and put his hands on the wall in front of him and i begin to beat the shit out of him. i know he's someone not afraid of having people do to him what needs to be done, so there wasn't hesitation or lack of energy for fear of hurting him.

but, it wasn't working. he spun around, still sputtering and pushed into the bathroom toward the toilet. liquid was beginning to explode from his mouth. but he was still choking. there i was, in my purple underpants with black hearts. i was giving the heimlich, which i had never done before. i was seeing posters and pamphlets of it in my head. line drawings of people from the 70s crushing each other's ribs. okay, i guess that's from the cpr scenarios. but i was going for broken ribs there in the bathroom in my underpants.

i could hear violet nearby, screaming screaming screaming. i shoved my fists into his gut as hard as i could. i was afraid it wasn't working. i knew there wasn't much time and he would be dead. dead. just like that. gone. life changed in no time flat. my mind thought about grabbing a phone to call 911. it would take them too long. was my time better spent squeezing or calling for help. i couldn't send oliver for the phone. it would take ages. i couldn't throw on clothes and run out screaming for neighbors.

THERE WAS JUST NO TIME.

i squeezed some more. i guess it sounds like i squeezed fifty rounds at this point. i don't know. five? i guess it finally all came out and he said he felt like he needed to throw up and crouched by the toilet. i was shaking and couldn't even pick up violet and so just crouched there hugging her while she screamed. oliver stood two feet away in his doorway giggling and telling daddy he needed to work on his choking form.

i was glad he wasn't frightened, but i wanted him to understand how serious choking is. after regrouping and finishing up my hairs, he appeared in the bathroom doorway and said it had been like an easter egg hunt. and i was like, what? and he said looking for all the cloth napkins the four of us had used to clean up the trail and putting them in a pile had been like looking for easter eggs.

i asked if he was scared or had any questions. we revisited a very recent discussion about the epiglottis and its function and choking and vomiting.

brian doesn't know what it was. he said he took a drink of water and it was like it had run into this huge bubble and just got stuck. a little gridlock in his gullet. he is required to call the doctor tomorrow. and not use his epiglottis in the meantime.
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