Laughing to Death

Years, and years, and years ago, when I was about seven, we were left home alone.

Not at all informative or instructional.

The three of us were around the kitchen table doing our homework. As this was the early 80's I'm going to guess that I was working on a coloring book or something. There weren't really 'homework packets' for first graders in my day. Again, as it was the early 80's, it wasn't anything of note to have 13, 11 and seven year olds home alone in the evening.

I was on one end of the 'wooden' formica table, Pat the other, Dionne in the middle. We were laughing and being silly and eating brownies. I took a bite and laughed. And sucked in ooey, gooey, delicious brownie. Stuck.

I couldn't breathe. I tried coughing. I started banging on the table. 

My sister Dionne who spent a considerable amount of our childhood trying to murder me, said, "I think she's choking! Are you choking?"

I was stunned that she wasn't just going to let me die but I did muster up a nod of some kind.

Patrick jumped up and started performing the heimlich maneuver, not sure where he learned it, likely a Very Special Episode of something or an After School Special. But, it worked. Brownie out.

I don't know that we ever really talked about it again. We just sat back down and went back to our stuff. We're GenXers after all. 

Now, as a full fledged adult I do think I had an irrational fear that at any moment one of the kids would choke. What if they were alone or in another room? I imagined every scenario. All of them horrible.

As a family, we try to eat dinner together most nights. It's a little easier now that there aren't many activities due to the pandemic. We make Sunday Dinner a priority no matter what. 

We have a funny family. We laugh a lot. 

You can see the foreshadowing, yes? 

I was laughing. Corn kernel. Sucked in. Stuck. 

I don't remember how my body reacted in the 80s. But I'm pretty certain it wasn't anything like this. I could breathe enough to cough. Sort of. But, I couldn't control my body. It was like my brain was calm but my body hysterical. Every muscle tensed trying to force the errant object from where it was. The coughing was incredibly violent and involved my entire body. I was repeatedly tensing. Every muscle. 

Deb, very calmly, said, "I don't think you can answer, are you choking?"

Good to have a wife who doesn't want me to die.

I slapped the table in the affirmative. 

My body tensed again. Full body cough.

Then I felt it. 

Oh. No.

The coughing continued. The body spasms continued, twisting me over.

I felt it again. And again. Warm.

The corn dislodged. 

It took time to catch my breath. My eyes were watery. My face felt hot.

I looked up at my family, staring at me. Stunned.

I sat for a moment, gathering my thoughts and options. I have no other option than honesty. Not my favorite option for this issue but the only one. I was, after all, in a room full of people.

"Well, we have a problem. I've peed my pants."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Henley glanced over at me, rolled his eyes and said, "I'll get some towels."

I started to giggle. Which is what started this whole thing to begin with.

I'm not sure what he expected but he returned with three oversized beach towels. I cleaned up the very small puddle. 

I've never been more thankful for wooden dining chairs in my life.

Wrapping a towel around myself I stated, "I'm going to cover myself for privacy and I'm going to take a long shower."

"Privacy? More like your pride and dignity, Mom."* 

"Thanks buddy."

More laughing. 

If we're going to keep being a funny family, we need to invest in some good CPR training. Obviously, laughing is dangerous. At least for me.

*Yes. I see where he gets it.