#heimlich maneuver

[mindblowingfactz]

sources : NPR, ABC News

On December 9, 2021, 11-year-old Davyon Johnson was at school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, when a classmate started choking on a water-bottle cap. Davyon jumped in and performed the Heimlich maneuver, a move he reportedly learned from YouTube. The cap came out.

But his day of heroism wasn’t over. Later that same day, he saw a woman using a walker trying to get away from a house fire. Davyon ran over and helped her reach her truck safely.

His community honored him as an honorary police officer and sheriff’s deputy, and his principal, Latricia Dawkins, called him a “dual hero” and a “kind soul.” She also said Davyon had long dreamed of becoming an EMT.

[rambling-rosee]

I’ve learned how to do the heimlich and use an epipen like 6 times and I KEEP FORGETTING AGH

[kme-2020]

19B (PART 2 OF 2)

unconscious choking, Heimlich maneuver/abdominal thrusts, CPR/chest compressions, rescue breathing, one victim (F), multiple rescuers (F/M), incompetent and competent rescuers

*part 1 contains conscious to unconscious choking, one victim (F), one rescuer (F), incompetent rescuer, Heimlich maneuver/abdominal thrusts

“Stay with me Maya, please, stay with me. It’s gonna be okay” Rylie cried, unsure if she was lying or not. Rylie placed her hands on Maya’s chest again, hesitant, recalling the first aid posters she’d seen over the years posted in public spaces. She gingerly pushed down a few times, noticing Maya’s trembling hand weakly reaching for her hands on her chest. “Does that hurt? I’m sorry, Maya, I’m so sorry” Rylie whimpered, pushing gingerly against Maya’s chest once more. Footsteps approached the door. “Someone’s coming Maya, hang on, just hang on little longer…”

Rylie was overwhelmed. She didn’t know what to do. She felt helpless, and Maya’s life was in her incompetent hands. She had tried mimicking what she’d seen on TV- the Heimlich maneuver she reminded herself- but had only clued in when Maya tried doing it on herself. Rylie couldn’t think straight, her mind racing. How do you save someone from choking? How do you help them breathe when there is something blocking their airway? What about when they are only half awake and can’t stand up and are still choking?

“What’s wrong?? Hey…hey hey hey, what’s wrong, what happened?” a voice called out. Rylie looked over her shoulder and watched as her floor mates Abigail and Luke rushed into the room, alarm and confusion on their faces. Rylie froze, her hands still on Maya’s chest, Maya’s hands weakly scrabbling at them, her unfocused eyes drifting hazily to the doorway. Abigail dropped to Maya’s other side, her eyes moving quickly over the scene before her. She placed a hand on Maya’s shoulder and looked at Rylie. “What happened?!” Abigail repeated, worry drawing her face tight. Rylie shook her head as a sob escaped her, and she bowed her head to Maya’s chest, shoulders shaking. Luke approached and pulled Rylie upright and sat her on her bed, a grounding hand on her back rubbing circles. She heard Abigail calling to Maya, shaking her, trying to rouse her. Maya weakly moved her head towards Abigail’s voice. “Rylie, what happened to Maya?” Luke asked, his voice low and calm.

“She…Maya, she-” Rylie choked out, unable to speak.

“Rylie, breathe, focus” Luke said, but the word ‘breathe’ tipped Rylie over the edge. She whipped around to look at Luke, another sob escaping her, shoulders shaking; “she can’t! She can’t breathe, she was ch-choking….I tried to help but I didn’t know what to do” Rylie managed to get out between shuddering gasps. Luke stared at Rylie, his mouth snapping shut. He swallowed and turned to look back at Maya and Rylie on the floor. Rylie followed his gaze, watching Abigail checking Maya’s pulse, head tilted, hovering by Maya’s mouth. “She’s barely responding, she’s not breathing…” Abigail muttered, frowning. Luke approached Abigail and Maya then, kneeling down and wrenching her mouth open, peering inside. “She’s choking, we need to clear her airway before she passes out entirely”.

Abigail crawled to Maya’s head and sat on her knees, slipping her hands under Maya’s armpits and pulling her upright into a seated position. Maya folded forward at her waist, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight in front of her, head lolling. Luke propped her upright against Abigail, one hand pressed against Maya’s chest, the other to her shoulder. Abigail snaked her arms around Maya’s waist, her hands searching over her oversized T-shirt before yanking the fabric out of the way. Maya’s abdomen was exposed above the waistband of her panties, muscles quivering painfully as her semi-conscious body continued its weak attempts to clear her airway.

Abigail moved quickly, her fingers poking around on Maya’s tummy. They found her belly button and Abigail nestled her fist above it, thumb pressing a divot into the skin. She grasped it with her other hand and pulled Maya back towards her. Abigail leaned back and shifted her weight, spreading her legs wider, bracketing Maya’s limp body between her thighs. She looked at Luke and he nodded before she yanked her clasped hands in and up, deep into Maya’s abdomen. Abigail yanked again, Maya throwing her head back, mouth gaping open, barely conscious but still responsive to pain. Her weak, trembling hands reached out, grabbing at Luke. He gripped her hands tightly.

Another thrust- “heurkkk”- and Luke leaned in close, cradling Maya’s face in his hands. “Relax Maya, try and relax if you can, it will help” he called to her in a low voice. Rylie watched, horrified, as Maya’s swollen lips and splotchy face began to turn grey. Abigail thrust into her again. Rylie winced, taken aback at how violent and uncomfortable it looked. I should have used more force Rylie fretted to herself, wringing her hands.

Luke kept his eyes on Maya’s face, watching her closely, “Rylie, call 911. Choking victim,” he ordered, only to be met with silence. He looked up at Rylie, who was staring with wide eyes at Maya, sitting like a rag doll slouched in Abigail’s arms as she performed the Heimlich maneuver on her barely conscious body, seemingly being held up by Luke’s grip and Abigail’s thighs pressed tight to her body. “Rylie” Luke’s voice was sharper now, “call 911, can you do that? Maya needs you to do that for her”. Rylie blinked and pulled herself back to the present moment, nodding her head and grabbing her phone from her bed.

Abigail continued thrusting her fists into Maya’s abdomen, grunting with effort. “Come on Maya, cough it out, I’ve got you,” she encouraged her; another thrust, “come on!”

But Maya couldn’t respond. Luke watched as her eyes began to roll up into her head, collapsing back against Abigail. “Maya? Keep your eyes open…Maya? Maya!” he called, shaking her shoulders. He tapped her face.

No response.

“She’s passed out for real Abigail, get her on her back”. Abigail heaved a final Heimlich into Maya’s body before shifting her weight and lowering her to lay flat on the ground. Luke wrenched open Maya’s mouth, peering in and catching sight of something lodged in her airway. He swept his fingers into her mouth. He felt a tiny, hard disc at the back of her throat but couldn’t dislodge it. He withdrew his fingers, wiping the saliva on the carpet beside Maya’s head, the scent of artificial cherry and menthol assaulting his senses. “I think it’s a cough drop” he muttered. He repositioned her head and attempted to breathe for her, meeting resistance. Maya’s cheeks puffed out with a squeaking noise as the air escaped, unable to enter her starving lungs.

Abigail remained at Maya’s head, pressing two fingers into her neck. She paused, attentive, eyes on Maya’s unmoving chest. “Pulse is quick, heart is still pumping for now” she said, looking up at Luke. He nodded and clambered to his feet. “There’s an AED in the main floor lounge, I’ll be right back,” Luke called over his shoulder as he ran from the room. Abigail crawled to kneel beside Maya’s chest. She rammed the heel of her hand between Maya’s breasts and placed her other hand on top. She leaned forward and slammed her weight down, Maya’s chest bowing from the pressure. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” she counted under her breath. Maya’s head lolled in time with her compressions, her shoulders caving in rhythm as Abigail’s hands pumped her chest. Maya’s tummy bounced up and down from the force. Abigail cringed, sickened by the amount of force and aggression she was pummeling into Maya’s helpless body right now.

Rylie appeared in her peripheral, hovering. “911 is on their way” she said, voice shaking. Abigail nodded, not breaking focus. “Thanks Rylie” she said, “…27, 28, 29, 30”. Abigail shuffled to Maya’s head and attempted to ventilate her; just as when Luke tried breathing for her previously, she met resistance. She felt for a pulse at Maya’s neck as she tried another rescue breath, noticing it was beating rapidly but weakly beneath her fingers. Shit.

“Her airway is still blocked” Abigail said, looking to Rylie. Rylie stared back, clearly unable to offer any suggestions. Abigail moved to resume chest compressions when an idea struck her. Instead of kneeling by Maya’s side, she swung her leg over Maya’s hips and settled herself down atop her pelvis. Abigail placed the heel of her hand into Maya’s tummy, just above the waistband of her panties, and laced the fingers of her other hand over top of it. She locked her arms straight and pushed up into Maya’s diaphragm, forcing her lungs to compress and squeeze the stale air up her throat. Maya lurched. Her breasts bounced through the fabric of her T-shirt, her tummy stretched and caved under Abigail’s hands, her head fell to the side with the force of the thrust, a tendril of hair escaped the messy bun piled at the top of her head. Abigail pulled back and thrust again, again, again and again- she lost track, panting from the effort.

Abigail leaned forward, pressing her body against Maya’s for support as she reached for her mouth and check for the cough drop. It was still lodged in her throat. “Fuck sakes Maya,” she sighed, exasperated and scared. She sat back on Maya’s hips and began chest compressions once more, not wasting time with dismounting Maya and kneeling at her side. Abigail pumped Maya’s chest desperately, watching it cave and bow under her force. Abigail closed her eyes and prayed; she didn’t believe in a god, not really, but she was grasping at straws here. She counted to 30 compressions and slid her hands down to Maya’s abdomen again. She delivered more forceful abdominal thrusts, heaving her body back and forth, pushing in an up- again and again and again- when suddenly-

“Kufffff”.

Abigail faltered, frozen with her hands shoved up into Maya’s ribcage, her head snapping up and eyes narrowing, staring at Maya’s face. She slowly leaned back and pressed in and up once more into Maya- “hufff” a tiny gasp escaped her.

“Maya?!” Rylie dropped to her knees at Maya’s head, hands hovering, unsure what to do. “Is she breathing? Rylie, is Maya breathing?” Abigail asked, leaning forward, peering at Maya’s face. Rylie opened Maya’s mouth and relief spread over her face. She swept her fingers into Maya’s mouth and withdrew a sticky, shiny disc. She laughed. “Oh my god, it’s out! The cough drop, it’s- Abigail, you did it! It came out! Holy shit, Abi-”

“Is she breathing?” Abigail repeated, voice sharp and urgent. She watched Maya’s chest, hitching in an irregular pattern. She raised herself on her knees, still straddling Maya, and shook her shoulders. “Maya, Maya open your eyes, take a deep breath, come on Maya”. Maya didn’t respond, her mouth open, face slack. Abigail rammed her fingers against the side of Maya’s throat.

Thump..thu……...thumpTHUMP-THum…thump…

“Her pulse is really weak” Abigail said under her breath. She leaned forward once more, pinching Maya’s nostrils closed. She tilted her head and sealed her mouth over Maya’s swollen, blue tinged lips. She exhaled, contracting her core muscles, breathing as much air as she could into Maya’s lungs. Relief flooded her body, slightly dizzy from the intensity of the emotions, feeling Maya’s chest rise and brush softly against her own. Maya released the seal and listened intently. Wooshhhh her breath exhaled from Maya’s lungs. Abigail inhaled and delivered another breath back into Maya’s open mouth, again feeling her chest rise and fall against her body.

Abigail breathed three more times into Maya. She tapped her cheek, calling to her “Maya, breathe, open your eyes Maya”. She shook her face gently before sitting up and resuming chest compressions. Rocking her body up and down, once again hammering Maya’s poor chest, trying to help her heart back into proper rhythm, she looked to Rylie. “Rylie, help me do CPR. Hold Maya’s head and keep her airway open. When I say, breathe for her, okay?” Rylie looked hysterical, her face screwed up, trying to stop her tears. “I know it’s scary, you can do it, we’re doing CPR together, okay? Maya needs us to do this for her” she encouraged her, “that’s it, one hand under her chin, one on her forehead, yep…26, 27, 28, 29, 30- okay, now. Pinch her nose tight and breathe into her mouth”.

Abigail watched as Rylie delivered a rescue breath into Maya, watching her chest rise again. “Good, just like that Rylie, again…good! Her chest is rising, that’s a good thing” she panted, resuming chest compressions again. They continued like this for another round, the only sounds in the room were Rylie’s muffled cries, Abigail’s panting, and tiny little huff, huhhh, hunghhh, huphf gasps coming from Maya in time with Abigail’s chest compressions.

Luke stumbled back into the room, AED in hand, and kneeled down at Maya’s head. Abigail continued counting compressions aloud. “6, 7, 8, 9….the blockage is out” she panted, “she’s not breathing and her heartbeat is irregular, weak pulse…18, 19, 20…Rylie is breathing for her, I’ll continue compressions while you get the AED set up- okay, now Rylie, two breaths” she ordered. She watched as Rylie, still terrified, squeezed her eyes shut and leaned down, breathing for Maya.

Abigail resumed chest compressions, only pausing to lift her hands up, still in position, when Luke cut open Maya’s shirt, then her bra. Maya’s breasts fell out of her bra, pulling down towards her sides. Abigail heard Rylie whimper and followed her gaze, taking in the red and purple splotches blooming across Maya’s chest and tummy, where Abigail was still straddling her. Abigail bit her lip, an odd combination of guilt and determination settling in her stomach. She continued slamming her weight down onto Maya’s beaten chest, pausing to allow Rylie time to breathe for Maya.

Suddenly, she felt Mays stir weakly beneath her. “Stop, stop, stop! Rylie, is she breathing? Is Maya breathing?” She dismounted Maya’s hips and settled beside Rylie, pressing her palm flat to Maya’s chest. She felt a weak rise and fall- shallow, but consistent. She looked up, meeting Luke’s eyes. Luke paused setting up the AED and reached towards Maya’s neck, then her wrist “I think she might be have a steady pulse again…” he said, frowning. Abigail watched as Maya’s chest rose and fell unevenly, lips parted, and she noticed some colour had returned to Maya’s face.

Abigail watched Luke leaned close, checking Maya’s airway. “She’s still having a hard time passing air” he murmured. He abandoned the AED and sealed his lips over Maya’s mouth and exhaled, forcing her chest to rise in a steady rhythm. Abigail kept a firm grip on Maya’s wrist, feeling the pulse beat under her shaky finger tips. Rylie cried quietly beside her, and Abigail wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Her heart is beating, and Luke is supporting her breathing until EMS arrive” Abigail said, “here, press your fingers along her neck and you can feel her heart beating- yeah like that, it’s gonna be okay Rylie”. A quiet moan, followed by a wheezy cough, escaped Maya’s lips. Her brows contracted with pain. Luke paused, pressing a hand to Maya’s chest and rubbing firmly. “Yes, yes! That’s it Maya, take a deep breath…come on Maya, again!” Luke encouraged her. Abigail took Maya’s hand in hers and squeezed tightly, her heart fluttering at the weak grip she got back. “Stay with us Maya, you’re okay” Abigail called to her. Rylie placed a hand to Maya’s cheek. “Maya?” She whispered, “Maya, breathe for me, come on, listen to Luke, breathe…”. Maya’s chest rose and fell- again, shallow, but even. “Open your eyes Maya” Luke called to her.

Maya slowly blinked her eyes half open, squinting, her eyes drifting from one concerned face to the other. She groaned, grimacing, confusion and pain crossing her face. Her head rolled to the side, then back to face the ceiling, eyes glassy and tired. “Breathe Maya, relax…” Abigail said, squeezing her hand again. Abigail appraised Maya, flat on the floor, wearing nothing but her panties, her cut shirt and bra exposing her bare chest to the room. “Let’s get her on her side and cover her up” she said. They rolled Maya into the recovery position and draped Rylie’s blanket over her, tucking it around her tired and weak body. Rylie remained kneeling at Maya’s head, stroking her hair and murmuring quietly to her, Maya providing a weak nod here and there. Luke was crouched on Maya’s other side, fingers pressed to her neck, his other hand against her side. Abigail knew he was feeling her pulse and her breathing, monitoring her status.

Abigail sighed, hearing raised voices and footsteps coming down the hall. She heard to static of a walkie talkie. Rylie jumped to her feet and ran the doorway, flagging down the paramedics. “In here! We’re in here…I called about a choking victim. She’s awake and breathing now, but very weak. We did the Heimlich maneuver, but she passed out, so my friends started CPR, and…” Abigail zoned out, watching the paramedics assess Maya, feeling relief that they had worked together to save her.

[kme-2020]

19A (PART 1 OF 2)

conscious to unconscious choking, one victim (F), one rescuer (F), incompetent rescuer, Heimlich maneuver/abdominal thrusts

*part 2 contains unconscious choking, Heimlich maneuver/abdominal thrusts, CPR/chest compressions, rescue breathing, one victim (F), three rescuers (F/M), incompetent and competent rescuers

Maya yawned and paused, feeling the tickle in her throat building again. She sighed, annoyed, internally cursing her roommate for bringing a cold back to their dorm room, which she inevitably caught since they lived in such close quarters. She cleared her throat and took a sip of hot ginger tea, and rummaged through her desk drawer, sniffling. She pushed aside pens, lip chap, condoms, searching for the bag of cough drops she bought this morning. She popped one into her mouth before returning to her study notes. The artificial cherry and menthol burned and soothed her throat in equal measure. Absentmindedly, Maya turned the cough drop over in her mouth, sliding her tongue over the smooth surface. She pushed it from one cheek to the other, biting down on it with her front teeth, forcing a small shard off the cough drop. She chewed the smaller piece and swallowed, then tried to bite off another small piece.

This time, however, the cough drop slipped from between her teeth and her jaw snapped shut, teeth clacking together. The cough drop shot to the back of her mouth.

“Huhh-hurrkkkk!”, a guttural, ragged sound escaped Maya’s throat. She gagged then gasped loudly in surprise. Maya coughed a dry, heaving sound that rattled her chest painfully, but quickly her breath was cut off as the cough drop was inhaled right into the top of her airway, lodging itself in a way that stopped air from moving in or out of her lungs. She tried coughing again, but nothing happened. Maya frowned, setting her pen down. Coughing always cleared her throat when water or food went down the ‘wrong pipe’. How was this any different?

Maya tried slapping the palm of her hand against her chest a few times, but the cough drop stayed stuck in her throat. The silence of the moment startled her, and she was confused as to why her coughs weren’t making any noise. Maya felt a hot wave of panic wash over her. Her pulse quickened, her heart beating painfully within her chest.

Maya couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t move any air, couldn’t cough, couldn’t whisper, couldn’t do anything but panic. She grabbed her ginger tea and tried to take a sip, grimacing as the hot liquid spilled back out over her lips and down her chin, staining her oversized T-shirt along the front of her chest.

Maya dropped her mug in surprise, spilling the hot liquid, and the mug tumbled off the edge of her desk onto her bare legs. She pushed her chair back hurriedly, her legs stinging, face contracting in pain from the burn, yet no cry escaped her lips. She glanced down at the burning sensation, red marks mottling her thighs. Maya rocked in her seat with another silent gag she couldn’t control, her body trying to clear her airway. Maya looked around her dorm room, flustered. She was alone. Her roommate was at an evening lecture, as were the majority of their floor mates.

Maya was sure of one thing. She was choking; full airway obstruction.

Maya stood up, pacing the room, pounding her chest, thinking fast. The Heimlich, I need the Heimlich…can you Heimlich yourself?? she wondered to herself. She thought back to her first aid training from years ago- a job requirement for camp staff- vaguely recalling the facilitator’s instructions. Maya balled up a fist and shoved it above her belly button, cradling it with her other hand and forcing it in and up towards her diaphragm. She lurched with the effort, thrusting again and again. “Unggghhh” a wheeze passed over her lips, followed by a soft clicking noise. Maya paused and tried to cough, folding forward at her waist, but the cough drop stayed stuck, the painful lump in her throat refusing to budge.

Maya hurried towards her desk chair and threw herself over the back of it, wedging it underneath her ribcage, the position awkward and painful. She collapsed over it several times, ramming the edge into her tummy, but again, she couldn’t clear her airway. Panic and pressure built painfully inside her chest.

Now, Maya was sure of two things. She was choking, and she needed help; she couldn’t clear her airway herself.

The lack of oxygen made her starving brain move sluggishly, slowly. Maya stumbled to the door and wrenched it open with such force that it rebounded off the wall. She stepped into the hallway, unsteady on her feet, and looked around. She didn’t exactly have a plan, she just knew she needed help before she passed out. Imagine, how pathetic would that be she thought to herself, cringing at the thought of her roommate retuning from lecture, finding her lifeless body crumpled on the floor of their dorm…bare legs folded under her body, wearing nothing but her panties and T-shirt. She glanced down at her naked legs, only then realizing she hadn’t put any bottoms on, but she was too panicked to care much about that.

Maya stumbled forward, tripping over her feet, dry heaving, her body still working subconsciously to clear her airway. Maya grasped her neck, mouth open wide, gagging silently as she felt her throat constrict around the cough drop. It burned her throat, the artificial cherry and menthol flavours making her want to puke, taste reminiscent of bile. Tears blurred her vision as she reached a shaking hand to her dorm neighbour’s door and knocked. She was met with silence. Maya looked around, noticing the sound of music carrying down the hallway from another door. She stumbled, one hand in a fist pounding hard against her chest repeatedly , drool pooling in the corner of her mouth, the other hand grasping at the wall for support as she stumbled down the hallway, dizzy and weak.

Maya stopped in the doorway of a partially open door where the music was coming from. Fuck me she thought to herself, groaning internally. It was Rylie’s room. They had drunkenly hooked up a few times this semester. Now, things felt awkward and they avoided each other more and more; a challenging feat given they lived on the same floor in the dorms. Steeling herself and swallowing her pride, Maya banged a fist against the young woman’s door.

“Yeah?” Rylie’s voice called out through the crack in the door. Maya stood there, dizzy and nauseous, feeling her control over her body slip. She couldn’t focus, the panic and lack of oxygen catching up to her. Her knees wobbled and she braced herself against the doorframe, gripping it with one hand, the other scratching weakly at her throat. Maya tried responding, her mouth opening and closing, but her voice remained trapped behind the cough drop.

Panicking, Maya pounded on the door again, the crack widening enough to peer inside. Rylie was lounging on her bed, scrolling her phone, still dressed in jeans and a tank top. She looked up and frowned, taking in Maya’s disheveled appearance. Maya’s face was flushed and tear stained, eyes bugging wide, oversized T-shirt hanging lose on her thin frame, wet spots still evident on her chest from her spilled tea, naked waist down save for her panties, red burns mottling the pale skin of her thighs.

“Maya?” Rylie asked, confusion colouring her voice, a flush colouring her cheeks, no doubt recalling their last drunken hook up. Maya stared, still braced against the doorframe with one hand, the other clutching her throat. Maya could feel herself fading, face hot, her vision starting to swim. Her body lurched involuntary, eyes squeezed shut, lungs retching and heaving as it tried to rid her airway of the cough drop. Maya pushed the door open fully and tripped inside, stumbling with a head rush, her eyes searching Rylie’s face. I’m choking she thought dully, hands pressed to her chest, mouth hanging open, unsure how to communicate without her voice. Rylie sat up, confused, her brows drawn together. Maya stood, swaying, fingers scratching at her throat.

She found someone to help her, now what?

Maya gestured weakly towards her throat, pointing at it. “Maya, what…what’s happening?” Rylie asked, seemingly catching on that something was wrong. Maya wrapped her hands around her throat, her body shuddering as it heaved, once again trying to dislodge the cough drop from her airway. Maya shook her head side to side, the movement throwing her off balance, brain fog settling in. “Hheeuuhhh” Maya retched as her throat spasmed.

Rylie stared at Maya, frozen on the spot. God, she’s fucking dense Maya thought to herself, Help me, I can’t breathe! I’m choking, you idiot! She gestured to her throat again, eye brows raised, pointing as frantically as she could, flapping her hands. Her mouth gaped open, drool finally spilling over her chin and down to her chest in a thin string, further staining her shirt, the scent of artificial cherry and menthol overpowering her nose. Her tongue slowly came to rest on her lower lip, heavy in her mouth.

“Wait…are, are you choking? Maya, is this for real? Maya!!” Rylie called out, standing up. Maya mustered as much energy as she could and nodded weakly, relief flooding her body. She understands, she’s going to help, I’m going to be okay, it will be over soon-

“Fuck Maya, cough! Cough, spit it out!” Rylie cried. I’m trying, you dumbass she thought to herself, frustrated, feeling her eyebrows pull towards each other. Maya shook her head again, mouthing the word “can’t”, signalling with her hands. “Maya, just spit it out…spit it out! Maya? Maya, I don’t- I don’t know what to do!” Rylie cried, fear evident on her face, “what do I do?!”

Suddenly, Maya was aware of three things. She was choking, she needed help, and Rylie didn't know what to do in order to help her; she was screwed.

Rylie approached her then, hands hovering midair. Maya banged a fist weakly against her chest, hungry for air, desperate to breathe freely again. “Uhh, here, one sec” Maya heard Rylie mumble as she reached a hand over Maya’s shoulder and patted her back. Maya knew it wasn’t enough to do much good. Maya braced her hands against her knees and bent at the waist, hoping this angle might help the pitiful back slaps Rylie was attempting. Maya shoved her fingers into her mouth, pushing them to the back of her throat. She felt the cough drop there, sticky and tacky, but was unable to pull it out. Grimacing, rocking with each ineffective back blow Rylie delivered between her shoulder blades, she shoved her fingers deeper, hoping to push the cough drop down her throat entirely. Maya convulsed, eyes squeezed shut and her stomach churning with nausea, and removed her fingers from her mouth, cherry scented saliva covering her fingers. “Blurghhh” Maya retched, a quiet gag following.

Rylie paused, hovering at Maya’s side. “Is- is it out? Maya, come on, talk to me” Rylie’s voice called out urgently, leaning down so they were face to face. Maya straightened up the best she could, head spinning. “Are you okay? Can you breathe now?” Rylie asked. Maya shook her head ‘no’. “Maya, Maya please- I don’t know what to do! Tell me what to do! Maya!” Rylie panicked, grasping Maya’s shoulders and shook them, causing them both to stumble.

Maya shot Rylie an incredulous look. Resigned to the fact that Rylie couldn’t help, Maya tried another self-Heimlich, weaker this time, pushing her trembling hands up under her rib cage. Rylie watched with scared eyes, nodding slowly. “Ohhh, oh right, like on TV, here let-let me try” Rylie awkwardly shuffled behind Maya, disappearing from her line of sight. Maya felt her slide her arms around her waist from behind. Maya swayed and leaned her weight back into Rylie, knees shaking, struggling to remain upright independently. She raised her arms, making room for Rylie to begin the Heimlich maneuver. Rylie grasped her hands together and pulled straight back into Maya’s ribcage, not low enough to be an abdominal thrust, and not high enough to be a chest thrust. Rylie squeezed once more. It hurt, but again, Maya knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Maya grasped Rylie’s clenched fists and tugged at them, guiding them lower to the correct spot above her belly button. Maya tapped them as urgently as she could in her weakened state, encouraging Rylie to continue. Rylie squeezed, pulling Maya tight against her front. Maya joined her hands over Rylie’s and forced them in and up, correcting the angle of the thrust. She timed a push with Rylie’s, their hands thrusting into her tummy with more force.

“Shit okay! Okay, okay Maya, hang on…like-like this?” Rylie panted, grunting as she yanked her hands up and into Maya’s aching ribcage. Maya lurched in Rylie’s arms and nodded, throwing a loose ‘thumbs up’ gesture over her shoulder. Maya was lightheaded and dizzy, feeling herself fade from the ongoing lack of oxygen. She bounced a few more times in Rylie’s arms as she continued the Heimlich maneuver, heat spreading across her face and chest, pain burning under her ribcage.

Suddenly, Maya’s legs buckled and the room tilted. She slipped from Rylie’s arms and crashed to her knees. Maya threw her hands forward and caught herself, propped up on all fours. Maya tried to stand back up, but couldn’t find the strength, tumbling back to her hands and knees. She heard Rylie calling to her from behind, felt her pressing close to her side, her hand slapping between her shoulder blades again. Maya couldn’t process anymore. Her head hung limply, face flushed, mouth gaping open, a trail of drool hanging from her mouth, eyes unfocused. She felt Rylie crouch over her and reach around her waist once more, heaving her fists in and up, trying to force her lungs to cough and clear Maya’s airway. Maya winced, feeling the cough drop shift. She tried to cough, but her body wouldn’t respond and her brain was fuzzy. Maya remained on all fours, punching a fist into the ground, scared as Rylie continued her incorrect impression of the Heimlich maneuver.

Rylie released her and Maya’s body crumpled to the floor in a heap. Her eyes were glassy and half open, lips swollen, cheek smushed against the rough carpet of the dorm. “MAYA!! Maya, cough it up, come on” Rylie called to Maya, dropping to her knees beside her. Rylie gripped her shoulders and rolled Maya onto her back. “Maya please, stay with me” Rylie cried, shaking her shoulders, but Maya couldn’t respond with anything more than her unfocused eyes moving towards Rylie’s voice, but not focusing on her face. “Maya…” Rylie cried, desperate and unsure, pushing on her chest a few times. Rylie looked around her room. Her roommate wouldn’t be back until later, and she needed help- no, Maya needs help she scolded herself. She ran to her door and screamed into the hallway “HELP!! Help, I need help, Maya’s not breathing, she’s not awake- please, please someone come help!”.

Rylie heard a door open and footsteps thundering down the hallway. She hurried back to Maya, laying on her back, oversized T-shirt bunched up, exposing her tummy and panties, her naked legs sprawling. One hand gripped the fabric of her T-shirt, the other laying on her tummy. Maya’s head was tilted to the side, eyes half closed, sluggishly tracking Rylie’s movement through the dorm room.

Rylie kneeled beside her, openly crying, calling to her “Stay with me Maya, please, stay with me. It’s gonna be okay” Rylie cried, unsure if she was lying or not. Rylie placed her hands on Maya’s chest again, unsure, recalling the first aid posters she’d seen over the years posted in public spaces. She gingerly pushed down a few times, noticing Maya’s hand weakly reaching for her hands on her chest. “Does that hurt? I’m sorry, Maya, I’m so sorry” Rylie cried, pushing gingerly against Maya’s chest once more. Footsteps approached the door. “Someone’s coming Maya, hang on, just hang on little longer…”

*To be continued, part two coming soon!*

[choked-over]

I just wanted to say that I really enjoy your writing, the scenarios are so unique and well written, they are realistic and hot, my favourite combination, choking and Heimlich is my favourite in the resus world and often gets overlooked for CPR which I love too but it sure is nice to see another choking fan around here!

Thank you so much!! Choking/Heimlich is the biggest interest of mine within the whole resus community. I enjoy exploring the different dynamics, different reasons someone may begin to choke-- If you or anyone else has any interesting ideas for how a victim may begin to choke, I encourage you to send them in asks or comments! I still have quite a few WIP's involving unique scenearios, including a humanoid robot victim, a bound victim choking on the food they're being forcefed, and a victim who begins to choke amongst drunk friends at a houseparty. I appreciate the compliments, comments like these really make me want to continue uploading my creations. I'm glad to know how many people enjoy my works and other creators who write.

[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.

[kme-2020]

16

conscious to unconscious choking at home, Heimlich maneuver/abdominal thrusts, chest thrusts, back slaps, rescue breathing, plus size victim, one victim (F), one rescuer (F)

Out of the corner of my eye, I see you uncross your legs and lean forward. You looked like you were going to stand up, but pause and go very still. “Kayla? What’s wrong babe?” I glance away from the TV and frown, watching you. You’re leaning forward, the bowl of fresh grapes and cheese between us on the couch is overturned. One hand is wrapped around your throat and the other is braced against your knee. You turn to me, pointing at your throat, fear in your eyes. No sound escapes you, but it is clear what is wrong.

“You’re choking!” I stupidly announce. “Oh- oh god, hang on!” I stutter. I jump to my feet and pull you close, wrapping my thin arms around your athletic waist, straining slightly to connect my hands together. My tiny frame is pressed tight against your broad back, and I settle my fist into your abdomen. I can feel your stomach muscles straining and contracting as your body works to clear the blockage in your airway. I brace myself and squeeze my eyes shut, recalling the first aid training I completed ages ago and thankfully hadn’t needed until this moment. “I’ve got you, I know what to do, here we go…” I mumble, unsure if the reassurance is for you or me.

“One!” I cry out as I thrust up into your stomach.

“Two!” I squeeze again.

“Three!” I say, driving my fist under your ribs and yanking up.

“Four” I say, my brow furrowing in concern. Why wasn’t it working…

“Five!” I cry out, ignoring the panic rising inside me, “Kayla?” I ask, my arms still wrapped around you. “Kayla, are you okay?”. A terrible, strained wheeze escapes you. I let go and you stumble as I race to your front, grabbing your muscular arms. “Kayla, can you talk? Can you speak? Kayla…” I ask, peering up at you and searching your face, feeling stupid as the question comes out. You clearly can’t breathe, let alone speak. Your eyes are wide with fear and your mouth is open, saliva pooling at the corner of your lips. Your face and chest are flushed, your shirt slightly askew from my attempts at the Heimlich.

“Kayla…” I mumble, refocusing my efforts on saving you. I step back to your side and reach up, slamming my hand between your shoulders blades. “Come on Kayla, get it out…”. More back blows, clapping your back repeatedly, my hand and arm burning from the impact.

But you’re still choking. Still unable to breathe, gasp, speak, cough- nothing. You’re struggling, eyes wide and glassy. “Kayla, come on, cough it up, work with me!” I urge you, repositioning myself behind you for another round of abdominal thrusts. I reach my arms around your waist and grip my hands tight against your stomach. “Come on, Kayla, come on” I urge as I thrust in and up into your stomach one, two, three times.

You lurch in my arms on the fourth thrust, the size difference between us almost enough to throw us off balance. I stumble and lose grip momentarily. I gasp in alarm and steady myself, collapsing against your back. “Fuck!! Kayla, hang on” I cry, tears burning my eyes as I desperately yank into your abdomen again and again and again.

A rough, violent cough escapes from you.

“Kayla?” I ask, freezing in place. “Kayla, can you breathe?”.

I’m met with silence.

“Kayla, talk to me” I plead, releasing my arms from your waist and turning you to face me. My stomach dropped as I took in your trembling hands clawing your neck weakly, eyes unfocused, mouth opening and closing uselessly. You shake your head back and forth, swaying slightly. I reach out to steady you as you lose your footing, trying to guide you to land in the couch. “Kayla!” shriek as we collapse on the couch. I pull you into a seated position and crouch in front of you. Your eyes meet mine, dazed and unfocused.

Desparate, I grip your jaw and open your mouth, peering in. I can see the blockage in your throat and without thinking I shove two fingers into your mouth, swiping at the food obstructing your airway. You gag and I feel the lump move, but I can’t retrieve it. “Fuck, come ON” I exclaim in frustration.

I lean back for a moment, appraising the situation. You were still conscious, but barely, so CPR wasn’t appropriate. I scramble behind your larger body on the couch and squeeze myself between you and the couch. I pound your back once more, thumping your back, your shirt rolled up, exposing your waist toned. “Kayla, baby please breathe! Come on, you gotta cough it up!” I cry. I don’t even pause to check if you’re breathing or responding and go right back to abdominal thrusts. It’s harder to do now that we are seated. I pull into your tummy but my hands slip apart and only pull back. I frown and reposition my hands and yank again, but my smaller frame is struggling with the new position. I cant get the right angle to perform the Heimlich correctly.

I pause and feel my hands up your front towards your chest, groping your breast to try and find the right spot between your nipples. I grip my hands over your breastbone and heave back, hard and fast. Your head bounces and you sag in my arms, tipping forward and succumbing to gravity. “No no no, stay with me Kayla, stay awake” I cry, leaning my body weight back to pull you upright again. You slump against me, my tiny frame struggling to control your larger body. “Breathe Kayla” I gasp as I continue thrusting your chest from behind.

A gag and a painful sounding retch comes out of you. I keep my hands gripped together, centred between your breasts and yank back again, compressing your chest two more times, producing another retch. “Kayla?” I ask, throwing in one more thrust for good measure…you don’t respond. “Kayla, is it out? Talk to me…”

Still, nothing.

I scramble and strain to pull myself out from behind you, stumbling off the couch. I crouch in front of your slumped body and prop you upright against the couch, gripping your face in my hands. Your lips are parted and your eyes unfocused, half lidded and hazy. I pry your mouth open and peer in, noticing right away a half chewed grape at the back of your mouth. I hold my breath and shove my fingers in, carefully scraping at the mass of food and pull it out of your mouth.

“Kayla?” I ask, leaning in, my eyes darting around your face. I shake your shoulders and your head lolls sideways. “No no no, Kayla come on, stay with me” I plead, shoving my fingers against the side of your neck. I glance at your chest. It is not rising entirely, hitching in an irregular pattern. I can feel a pulse, rapid but weak under my fingers. “Breathe, come on…that’s it” I urge you, but your condition doesn’t improve.

Panic overrides my logic at this point. All I can focus on is your erratic and ineffective breathing. Desperate, I keep your body propped upright and steady as I straddle your hips, pressing you into the back of the couch. I pinch your nose and draw in a deep breath before sealing my lips over yours and delivering the breath back to you. I feel your chest and tummy expand against me, finding some relief knowing your airway is clear now. I break the seal and pause, waiting for your breathing to settle out, but it remains irregular and erratic.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you…” I pant, unsure who exactly I’m trying to reassure at this point. I lean in and breath for you again. I keep at it for four more rescue breaths until I pause and notice your breathing is more consistent and stable without my assistance. You stir weakly beneath me, but I remain straddled against your hips. “Kayla? Kayla, can you hear me?” I ask, pressing my knuckles to your chest and rubbing sharply, trying to rouse you. A moan escapes you and your eyes flutter, but you remain slumped back against the couch. “That’s it’s Kayla, come back to me, come on….thats it, open your eyes” I encourage hopefully, voice wobbling slightly.

Slowly, your brown eyes peel open fully and slide around the room, eventually stopping and focusing on me. “Hey, you’re okay, keep your eyes open” I whisper gently, cupping your face with my hand. “Deep breaths, that’s it” I encourage, exaggerating my own inhales and exhales. I slide my hand down to your neck and once again press my fingers to your pulse, closing my eyes in relief and the steady rhythm and the breaths puffing against my cheek. I lean forward and kiss your forehead. “That’s it baby, you’re okay, keep breathing…” I murmur between kisses. I press my ear to your chest and close my eyes, feeling your tummy exhale against mine and your heart thudding strong and loud. “Just breathe, keep breathing…”

[softestblossoms]

How degenerate on main am I allowed to be before I am see differently. Because wouldn’t it just be silly talking about using a remote controlled toy while eating dinner resulting in having to save a flustered, squirmy, and choking partner