Near Death Experience

There have been few moments in my life where I truthfully felt as though I am all that I have in this world. Usually, this comes after a long bout with depression. But these former experiences pale in comparison to the time I found myself choking at the Himalaya Yeti lunch buffet. A routine lunch spot for my mother and me. $7.99 is a hell of a deal in this economy, but alas, that is beside the point. Everything was going as usual, we took our usual booth, ordered our drinks, and then headed over to the trough like two Jack Russells, taking to a bowl of kibble. No faster than I piled my plate up with Indian goodies like tikka masala, naan, and chicken biryani rice, I was back in my seat ready to begin scarfing down. I took no consideration for the temperature before I shoved the biggest piece of chicken on my plate into my mouth. The shock of the heat was enough for me to immediately gasp in a breath in an effort to hopefully cool said chicken. Suddenly, the airflow stopped completely, my windpipe now completely blocked by the gargantuan piece of succulent chicken breast. I tried breathing air out, but nothing. I tried swallowing a few times, but nothing. I then tried to mutter a few words to my mother, now sitting across from me, about to dive into her delectable plate of goodies, but nothing… We locked eyes, and immediately, panic ensued. Hastily, I climbed out of the booth; my hands clasped around my neck in the classic ‘holy fuck! I’m choking!” way. I looked around me, eager to catch the attention of anyone eating in that restaurant that might help me. Is there a doctor in the house? I thought. A firefighter? Paramedic? Anyone who was forced to take a CPR class ever in their life? No? Cool, guess I’m the only one.  At this point my mother, god bless her soul, is attempting the most pitiful excuse for a Heimlich maneuver I have ever seen. For whatever reason, she is doing it from the side, essentially just squishing my ribs together as hard as she can, which really isn’t that hard. I don’t blame her; she has weak wrists and is missing her pinky knuckles. A bird of her stature would likely not even be able to produce a torque strong enough to dislodge such an obstruction. As I try to direct her with my arms to go behind me I’m coming to the realization that I might die in this restaurant. I can see the headlines now “Mother tries desperately to free a monstrous hunk of chicken from daughter's throat at the Himalaya Yeti lunch buffet this Tuesday afternoon but ultimately fails, RIP Sara, bitch should have chewed”. At this point, as my world began to close in around me, I realized no one was going to help me. I had to help myself. It was the last 30 seconds of the game, I had the ball, and all I had to do was get it past the goalie (something I had rarely done in my actual years as a soccer player). Without any thought, I took my hand and shoved it into my mouth, but I could feel no chicken. I stuck out my pointer finger and plunged deeper, and barely I could feel the obstruction. Suddenly, I thought maybe I needed to push it down. Why? I don’t know. It was a horrible idea. I have my EMT license, and I distinctly remember them ensuring me that sending a foreign object directly into the lungs is usually not ideal. But, that was the road I was taking. I took my middle finger and sent it rocketing as far back and as fast as I possibly could. By the grace of God, this bulbous chicken chunk got stuck to the tip of my acrylic nail. Like a fish taking the bait, I began to delicately reel ‘er in. Only then did I pass my otherwise unbothered gag reflex, which unfortunately resulted in me projectile vomiting all over my table, my food, my drink, and my seat. After a few breaths, reality began to set in again. I was hard pressed to look around, it wasn’t as if anyone had bothered to put down their forks to help a young broad out. But my mother did lovingly exclaim that “a little help would have been nice!” I don't know why but we paid our tab and left. It felt like a strange violation to pay for a meal that almost killed you. The next few hours were rough, my throat was completely swollen and irritated for a few days. But that is nothing compared to the embarrassment that has lived rent free in my mind ever since. If you ever see me out eating, please leave me alone; I am concentrating.