#heimlich

[saphicresus]

A little choking animation, animation is so hard 😩

[ariasheart]

Messing around with Heimlich stuff

[lektoheart]

Character Update Part 2

I updated some more characters to use new textures. I’m also trying out thinner outlines for the character shader. I think I like the thinner outlines more, but let me know what you think.

[wol-vee]

Wahoo! I had fun doing this :) Looks like it's still not responsive... what next? 🤔

Prev || Next

[finchik]

More Hector content, but it's A BIT more extreme this time

https://t.me/thechibuzo21 subscribe to the main account (there's more Hector there I promise)

[ms-rescuer]

Hello all! I’ve been indulging in this community for a while, but I’ve always felt so nervous to post something >.< I love writing and I love resus so I figured I should contribute, hopefully you enjoy! Im very inspired by the other writers on here, so I’m super sorry if anything sounds similar to anyone else’s work! I’m also sorry it’s so long, I’m working on not being so wordy, but it’s also important to me I include all the little details ^_^; feel free to leave any advice on how I could improve!

(Cw - choking, heimlich, crying/comfort, slight emeto warning)

He was eating alone at the dinner table when a sudden noise from outside the window startled him. With a short gasp and jump, he turned his head to look out and see nothing, must have been an animal. He turns his head back and almost instantly, whatever that noise was becomes the least of his worries. Feeling a large, painful blockage deep within his throat, he brought his napkin to his mouth and attempted to cough it out, but all he could manage was a silent gag. His eyes widen as he realizes he can’t make any noise, he can’t pass any air, he’s really choking.

His chair makes a loud scraping sound against the kitchen floor as he pushes himself back, clutching his throat as his stomach heaves for air, and drool begins to fall from his pale lips.

The loud sound of his chair alerts me from the other room.

“Hey, you okay in there?” I ask loudly, continuing to fold the laundry I was busy with. I wait a second, but there’s no response besides the sound of his feet as he walks around the kitchen. I was willing to assume he just didn’t hear me, but as his footsteps became heavier and more frantic, I drop what I’m doing and head to check on him.

Before walking through the door way I see his plate still sitting on the table, half eaten with his silverware and napkin strewn across the table. Fully entering the kitchen, I see him hunched over the sink. “Are you okay?” I ask again, but just like before there’s no response. Walking over towards him, I rest my hand on his back trying to figure out what’s wrong, when I feel his back trembling under my palm. His torso heaves violently as he weakly thrusts his stomach into his fists resting against the counter. He gags again before raising his head to look at me, eyes dazed and swaying on his feet as his senses begin to fade. He’s paler than ever, a blue tone taking over him as a deep purple creeps up his neck and flushes his lips and ears. I immediately understand the problem as he wraps his bluish fingers around his throat and saliva covers his mottled purple lips and chin, and his unnaturally blue tongue hangs over his lips with every involuntary gag. Tears fall from his bloodshot eyes and his entire body trembles, but I waste absolutely no time flipping him around and wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, positioning him for the Heimlich maneuver. He grips my arms tightly, fidgeting around and frantically hitting his chest. Before I can even prepare to start helping, he throws himself against my arms in a desperate attempt to clear his airway, a deep choking sound emanating from his throat.

I pull my fists up and into his stomach, the soft flesh right beneath his ribcage quivering with every thrust as I promise him he’s going to be okay, and that I’m going to get the blockage out and get him the air he needs. I can feel him getting heavier with each passing second as his grip on my arms grows weaker. His frantic movements become slow and drowsy as he loses the battle to stay awake. His body twitches from oxygen deprivation and I can feel his stomach muscles relaxing, as he loses the strength to keep trying to cough.

I muster all my strength for one last thrust into his abdomen before he fully loses consciousness. His feet are momentarily lifted off the ground, and his head lolls back and rests on my shoulder. I catch a quick glimpse of his face and he’s a shade of purple that I didn’t think was physically possible, his mouth and eyes wide open, before his completely limp body falls back down into my arms. His knees buckle as he loses all strength to stand, and I gently lower him to the floor, cradling his head with one hand to be as gentle as possible with him.

He lays on his back as I throw one leg over his hips, straddling his still form. His half lidded eyes are glossy and unfocused, looking somewhere past me, and his dark purple lips are slightly parted as drool spills down his cheek, pooling on the floor beside his head. His throat bobs and his chest weakly twitches as his unconscious body tries in vain to breathe.

I curl my thumb over his lower teeth, forcing his mouth open as I use my other hand to hold his head still, gently cradling the nape of his neck. I peer into his mouth, but I see nothing in the back of his throat. I feel his pulse, weak but there, so I clasp my fists together and reposition them to the same place I was pulling into during the abdominal thrusts. In this position I have much more leverage, the pressure feels more useful. I push my fists deep into his stomach over and over again, as quickly as possible. His head tilts to the side as drool and mucus puddle on the floor beneath his mouth and nose. A deep, nearly silent gurgling sound comes from his mouth with every compression to his stomach. This is taking entirely too long, he needs to breathe right now.

As I quickly position myself to sit beside him, I once again force his mouth open and sweep the excess fluids out with my finger. I grasp the nape of his neck again and slightly lift him, straightening his neck and allowing me to see straight into his throat. This time when I look, the obstruction is near the top of his airway. It feels almost violent the way I shove my fingers deep into his esophagus, maneuvering them under the blockage and slowly pulling them out. I quickly sweep the food out of his mouth and onto the floor. I could hear the release of suction, and a small, wet exhale of the old air that had run out as he asphyxiated. I immediately pressed his cold, wet lips to mine, pinching his nose and breathing deeply into his lungs as I cradle him in my lap. His arms hang limply as I hold him close to me, continuing to breathe for him.

Thankfully, with each rescue breath I can feel his pulse getting stronger, faster and more stable. By the fifth breath, he began to cough weakly as he exhaled the air I gave him. Before I could give him another breath, he sharply inhaled on his own, it was strained and shortly cut off by more hacking. As I held him in my arms waiting for him to come back, I watched as with each breath he took on his own, his eyes became more focused, and his limbs began to twitch once again. I gently stroke his hair as I position his head and upper half to be lying on his side, making sure his airway stays clear as he regains his consciousness. His weak cough turns into violent hacking which fills his face with color, going back to a normal flushed tone. I gently pat his back as he lays on his side, occasionally gagging from the intensity of the coughing fit. He inhales huge, desperate breaths of fresh air between each wet gag and strained cough. Tears fill his eyes as he looks around, his hands grabbing to hold onto anything he can. I take his hand and gently pull him up to my chest. He’s sitting on my lap, chest to chest as I pat his back, holding him tightly. He cries into my shoulder, asking in between gasps what happened and, “why do I hurt so much, my throat hurts so bad.”

I gently explain that he choked as I continue comforting him, letting him know I’ll always be here and keep him safe. I pick him up and carry him over towards the counter, setting him down right next to the sink as I fill up a glass of water for him. He finishes it quickly, and I gently ask “Would you like to go lay down? I know you probably don’t feel very good right now, my love.” He nods his head, sniffling and rubbing his eyes as I pick him back up and head towards the bedroom.

(P.S. this is just for my self indulgent story, realistically when someone’s choking you should always call 911 or take them to the hospital afterwards, but also let me know if you want to see more of my writing!!!)

[heyhopperart]

Don't underestimate me.. anything can become a crossover... Especially the ones you've never asked for...

[kme-2020]

17

conscious choking in public, heimlich maneuver/abdominal thrusts, back slaps, one victim (F), one rescuer (M)

‘here :)’ Violet sent a text to the group chat, letting her girlfriends know she was the first one to arrive. She looked around, tossing her brown wavy hair over her shoulder and walked up to the bar, ordering a caesar. She thanked the bartender and started a tab. It was that kind of night. A recent breakup with her long term partner Adam had her feeling…complicated. They were growing in different ways and still cared for each other, but were better off as friends, not lovers. Still, it hurt and was painful, and Violet needed a distraction.

Violet took a sip of the caesar, enjoying the savoury drink, waiting for her girlfriends. She enjoyed people watching. She scanned the crowd, recognizing some familiar faces. But one stood out in particular. Her stomach dropped and she spluttered on her drink, coughing, wiping her chin clumsily.

Adam. He approached, a lopsided smirk lifting the right side of his mouth, bringing out his dimples. “Am I dreaming, or is that-”

“What are you doing here Adam?” Violet demanded, trying to regain some composure, a tickle still stuck in her throat. She downed at him, anger simmering in her chest. He stared at Violet, incredulous. “It’s a small town Violet, there’s like three bars total, we were bound to run into each other eventually” he said, tilting his head. He looks Violet up and down, taking in her black dress, wavy brown hair and makeup, “why, what are you doing here? Are you on a date?”.

Violet blushed, fidgeting with her phone. Where are my friends? Violet thinks to herself, feeling annoyed. “I’m meeting the girls here for drinks” she mumbled, “then we’re going to watch my coworker’s band perform across the street”. Adam smiled, genuinely pleased. Violet suppressed an eye roll. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m heading there too, small world. I know the drummer.” Adam said.

Violet stared at him; “Yeah Adam, I know you know the drummer” she snapped. His face fell. Violet didn’t mean to be rude, but she was really looking forward to this distraction from heartache tonight. She sighed, gripping her caesar glass. Violet shook her head, “sorry” she mumbled. They locked eyes and Adam’s lower lip pouted. “Wow, an apology, was that so hard Vi?” he sneered. Violet could hear the joking tone, but she wasn’t in the mood.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Adam” she scoffed. She raised the caesar glass to her lips and downed the rest of it, more for something to do than anything else, hoping the conversation would end. She picked up the garnish spear from the empty glass and popped an olive into her mouth, holding it on her tongue, focusing on the salty flavour, trying to ground herself. Someone bumped into her from behind, knocking her forward in her seat, squeezing her against the bar top for a moment. It wasn’t intentional, or particular rough, but it was just enough to make her current situation worse.

Suddenly, Violet couldn’t breathe properly. The olive had slid to the back of her mouth before she even had a chance to chew it, and perched at the top of her throat. The sensation surprised her, the briney flavour burning her nose. Violet focused, trying to move the olive back up with her tongue, but the slippery olive disobeyed her and slid further down, inching its way towards her airway. Panic flared inside of her, but Violet tried to stay calm. She kept her mouth closed and tried inhaling through her nostrils, but realized with horror that this was the wrong move as the olive slipped further back, seemingly in slow motion, and wedged itself fully at the top of her trachea, blocking any airflow.

Violet’s gag response activated, but nothing happened, other than an awkward shift in her seat. Her hands stilled at the edge of the bar top as she tried unsuccessfully to clear her throat. She was choking; honest god, full on choking. She couldn’t cough, breathe, or speak. She was scared, alarmed at how quickly things had escalated, how urgent and lethal it felt. Violet looked around and pulled at Adam’s sleeve, trying to get his attention back. Adam looked down at her, smirking.

“What’s up Vi, you good?” Adam asked, raising an eyebrow. Cocky asshole Violet thought to herself. Violet didn’t respond; rather, she seemed to curl in on herself and gag, but no noise came out. She raised a shaking hand to her chest and tried to swallow, a pained look spreading across her face. “Vi? Vi, you good?” Adam repeated, reaching out a hand to Violets shoulder. Violet didn’t respond. Maybe she didn’t hear him? “Hey, Violet, look at me…” Adam leaned in, frowning, concern flickering across his features. Violet wrapped her hands around her throat, mouth opening and closing, surprise replacing the pain on her face. She tried swallowing again, another silent grimace, then heaved without noise as if she were going to be sick. Violet slammed her right hand onto the bar, causing her empty glass to rattle, left hand still gripping her throat. She turned to Adam, frantic, pointing at her throat, mouth hanging open. Violet’s eyes brown eyes were wide and glassy, frantically searching Adam’s face, urging him to understand.

“Are you okay?” Adam asked, genuine concern in his voice, noting the energy shift between them after their banter. Their breakup had been painful for both of them, but amicable. He’d never seen Violet act like this before, and lord knows she never stayed silent longer than a few seconds. “Vi? Violet, are you okay?” Adam asked again, urgency lacing his voice. Violet shook her head no, hair falling into her face. Violet’s mouth open and closed, not a single noise, not seven a gasp escaping from her full lips. She closed her eyes and banged a fist to her chest, her cleavage peeking out the top of her black dress.

“Holy shit, you’re choking? You’re choking! Shit!” Adam exclaimed, standing up. Before Violet could even nod her head, Adam was pounding her back with his large hand, palm audibly smacking the bare skin between her shoulder blades. Violet rocked forward with each back slap, nearly toppling off her stool. She gripped the bar top and braced herself against the pounding on her back, still working to clear her airway, still silent, still suffocating.

Violet felt a flush spreading across her cheeks- lack of oxygen and embarrassment Violet thought unhelpfully to herself. Violet squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on clearing her airway, fingertips scrabbling at the tiny lump she could feel through the skin on her throat. “Vi! Vi, talk to me….” She heard Adam’s low voice urging her. Her eyes flew open, startled to see Adam leaning so close into her line of vision. Violet tried to talk, but her voice remained stuck behind the olive lodged in her airway.

A freaking olive. Violet was appalled at the absurdity of the situation; unable to breath because an olive was blocking her airway after she childishly downed her drink, at a bar waiting for her girlfriends to enjoy a couple drinks before starting their night out, only to choke and have her life relying on the hands of her ex. The universe is cruel sometimes Violet thought dully to herself.

“Vi! Violet, can you breathe?” Adam’s voice brought Violet back to the present. She looked into Adam’s concerned eyes and shook her head, pointing to her throat again. Adam disappeared behind her and she felt his arms slide around her waist, fingers frantically poking around her belly before settling above her naval. She braced herself, knowing that the Heimlich maneuver was coming. Adam thrust his fists up into Violet’s ribcage. Violet’s mouth opened in surprise; she would have called out in pain if she could pass any air.

Another painful thrust; Violet’s head flew back, knocking against Adam’s chest, lolling to the side as more abdominal thrusts racked her body. Yet her throat remained stubbornly blocked, still choking on the olive. Adam’s arms disappeared from around her, sending her toppling off her seat. She caught herself against the bar top, gripping it for support, half leaning, half standing. Violet was aware of how bizarre they must look right now; flustered and flushed, slumping over the bar, spit pooling in the corner of her mouth, thick brown hair thrown in waves around her shoulders, her ex alternating between pounding her back and delivering powerful Heimlich maneuvers into her aching abdomen.

Adam’s hand forced Violet’s face up towards his, his green eyes searching her face. “Violet, come on” he growled, opening her mouth and peering in. Violet grimaced, tapping Adam’s wrists, urging him back into action as she unsuccessfully tried coughing, her body heaving uselessly. Another round of firm back slaps between her shoulder blades. Violet noticed a bartender approaching, and was faintly aware of the small crowd that had gathered around them. Violet wanted to curl into a ball and die- don’t think like that she scolded herself, not now. The world lurched with each painful thrust Adam delivered into her aching tummy, her ribcage protesting with sharp pains. Pressure built behind her sternum, so close to bursting, her vision blurring with tears, when suddenly-

Pop!

A gag, followed by a desperate wheeze and a weak, unproductive cough. Violet grasped Adam’s strong arms still yanking into her waist, keeping her upright. “Vi? Vi, cough it out, that’s it, come on…” Adam urged, shaking her body with desperation. Violet jostled in his arms, dizzy and lightheaded, and tried to cough. A pitiful noise escaped her throat; the olive had shifted enough to allow some air to pass, but was still wedged firmly in her throat. Violet slapped her palm flat to her chest, desperate to clear her throat.

“I can’t- hurkkkk- get it- hngggg- out” Violet gagged out. Adam rubbed Violet’s back, but she needed more than that. She still couldn’t breathe properly. “Adam, h-help me, please-” her voice was cut off by a wet squelching sound, her airway convulsing, trying to rid the blockage from her throat.

Adam seems to understand and slammed her back several more times. Violet stamped her foot and slammed the bar counter in front of her, frustrated, scared, and angry. Violet drew in a shallow, ragged breath. She attempted a self-Heimlich maneuver, but Adam moved quickly. “No no, let me, here”. He stepped behind her once more and laced his fingers over hers, thrusting both of their fists up under Violet’s ribcage.

“Huckkkk”

Another thrust, “huggggff”

One more, “gckkkakkk”

And suddenly, the olive released itself from its lethal hold on Violet’s throat, popping out like it hadn’t just held her life in peril. It bounced onto the table in front of Violet, glistening in the low light of the bar, mocking her. Violet stared, appalled at how small it was.

Violet gasped a painful inhale, followed by a rough, dry cough. She wheezed, sagging in Adam’s arms. “Violet! Violet, stay with me…Violet?” His voice urged, lips brushing against her left ear. Violet panted, eyes closed, nodding her head, weakly patting his hands still wrapped around her waist. “Violet, talk to me. Vi? Vi, come on, breathe, you’re okay, you’re okay, just breathe…” Adam rambled, voice shaking, “…breathe, you’re good right Vi? Vi, say something, breathe, come on Violet, brea-”.

“I, I’m okay” Violet gasped out, cutting him off, voice shaky and weak. Violet felt a long exhale of relief leave Adam’s body, their bodies melting together. They stayed there for a moment, Adam’s arms keeping Violet upright, the back of her head resting on Adam’s chest, his chin resting atop her shiny brown waves. Violet’s knees were wobbly as oxygen returned to her with an intense head rush. “I’m dizzy” she mumbled, reaching for the bar and propping herself up on her elbows. She was aware of Adam’s reluctance to let her go, but she was overwhelmed by the intensity and the unexpected intimacy of her choking incident. She drew in a slow breath, throat burning, mouth watering, eyes squeezed shut tight as she tried to calm down. She dry heaved, and bile rose up her throat, but she swallowed it down. She dropped her forehead into her hands, chest heaving with each desperate inhale filling her greedy lungs.

“Let’s step outside, get some fresh air” Adam whispered to Violet, and she nodded weakly. He firmly gripped her bicep and helped her up, quickly readjusting her dress for her before slipping a $20 bill to the bartender and guiding Violet away from the crowd. She leaned into him, legs weak, lightheaded, allowing him to take more of her weight as he slipped her arm around his waist. They got outside and he propped her against the brick wall, and he leaned in, placing his hands against the wall above her shoulders and examining her face. She could smell his cologne; the one she bought him for his birthday last year

“Breathe Violet, Jesus…you’re sure you’re okay, yeah?” He asked again, genuine concern drawing his brows together. Violet nodded weakly, pressing a hand to her ribs gingerly and wincing. “I’m okay, that was just…a lot all at once” Violet mumbled. “Yeah…just focus on breathing, in and out” Adam’s eyes anxiously searched her face. “Did I hurt you?” he whispered, his eyes dropping to her lips. Violet licked her lips, flustered, and shook her head. He glanced down, eyes lingering at her cleavage, and placed a hand overtop of Violet’s, resting against her ribs. She wondered if he too could feel her heart beating overtime, pounding against her ribcage. A tear slowly trickled down her cheek. They breathed together, gasping, chests heaving and hitching as adrenaline slowly left their systems.

“Look at these two lovebirds!! Ow owww” a familiar voice called out. Startled, Adam and Violet looked up together, drawing apart. Three women, Violet’s girlfriends, approached, laughing and looking smug. “Sneaking away for some private time? You dirty little dogs, I called it. I knew you two would…wait, what’s wrong?”. They stopped, taking in Violet’s flushed and tear stained face, Adam’s pale and worried face, and the way that Violet held her ribs.

“Umm, so long story…” Adam began, glancing at Violet.