Deep Breath

Today Matt almost died.  It doesn't feel like it was that dramatic and perhaps I have spent the last several hours downplaying it in my mind so that I don't freak out over what could have happened, but that is the actual truth. 

I had some leftover pizza out on the counter and was getting ready to heat it up.  Matt ninja-grabbed a piece and shoved it into his mouth.  Immediately, I knew he had overstuffed so I was watching him--I even invited him to spit it out a few times.  But as he continued to chew, I thought he was making progress. He was walking around the room as he continued to work on his gigantic mouthful.  At one point, he sat down and then abruptly stood. Adi yelled, "MOM! He's choking!" and I looked over to see him gagging a little and when he went to breathe back in, he couldn't get any air.  I immediately started to do the Heimlich, and he gagged and threw up a tiny bit, but then immediately went back to being completely blocked. I realized very quickly that I was making zero progress--nothing else was coming up, no air was coming out or going into him, and he was literally motionless from the inside (not sure if that makes sense, but when you wrap your arms around a person that isn't breathing, it feels different).  I yelled for Todd and he must have heard the panic in my voice because he came running SO fast and I told him, "I can't get it!" so he took over and told me to call 911.  I did so immediately.  The connection was really bad, but I was able to tell them that Matt was choking, not getting any air, and starting to lose consciousness.  Matt would periodically make a gurgle which I knew was a good sign, but then his eyes started rolling back and closing, he knees would buckle and he would start dropping to the ground.  Todd held him up and continued to lift his body over and over with as much force as he could to clear his airway.  He was pounding on his back periodically...and nothing seemed to be working.  The paramedics were dispatched and the 911 operator continued to talk to me, asking me for updates on Matt's breathing, any sounds, talking, consciousness, etc. 

Finally, after what felt like a slow-motion hour (but was actually in total about 2 1/2 minutes, Matt took a few small, raspy breaths).  We think he finally swallowed the crust because nothing came up.  He immediately tried to walk away from Todd (I think he was a little traumatized) and went into his bed, curling up in a ball.  Todd got out a stethoscope and listened to his lungs which seemed clear at this point.  

The paramedics arrived a few minutes later and we were happy to report that Matt was doing MUCH better--by the time they left, he was his usual self.  He was trying to drag them over to watch a video on his iPad or walking them to the door before they were ready to leave...the usual Matt tactics. 

Adi was traumatized--she was SOBBING in a corner where she sat and prayed the entire time this was going on.  She watched him choke at the beginning and when she started screaming, I think I yelled at her to calm down because it was making things so much worse...which didn't help her feel calmer at all (duh).  She ended up making her way upstairs at some point so she didn't have to watch it.  Todd was talking to a physician buddy later in the afternoon and he said that is probably one of the most traumatizing things for an observer to see--it is terrifying.  I can attest that is true...watching Matt's face, I will never forget.  It went from panicked to literally fading.  Not expression. Almost sleepy.  And my mind was racing through everything that I would regret if something were to happen to Matt--not getting that stupid pizza crust out of his mouth being #1. But as I looked at him and thought, "is this it?  Is he going to die?" I somehow knew it wasn't.  Maybe it was denial, but I was right.  He is 100% totally fine and not even a little bit freaked out by what happened.  Only the rest of us are. 

This experience has me thinking about a couple of things.  First, I wasn't strong enough to help Matt.  If Todd had not been home, I am not sure what would have happened.  I think I need some more first aide training to feel confident--I need to know how to do these things more effectively. Second, I am grateful it happened.  Todd had me call 911 immediately.  Even if he had not been able to get him breathing before they came, they would have come soon enough to still help.  Had we waited to call and things had gone differently, it could have been the difference between him living and dying.  Always call right away. 

Lastly, I got a front row seat to how much my children love their brother.  It was tender. I know we all love him, but moments like that remind you how fragile life is, especially during a phase fraught with frustration and trial.  

Needless to say, we are tired and excited to sleep off the drama.