An experience that I had nearly 30 years ago.
Shared a house in Sydney with some friends and a girlfriend while we were all at University.
Home alone one day, reached into the fridge and grabbed a pickled onion...had it in my mouth, savouring the vinegar, as I walked to the loungeroom to see what was on the idjit box.
Hooked my foot on a fold in the carpet (rental, bad carpet), and felt the onion slide down my throat and get stuck. Right in the middle of my throat.
Was on a breath intake, so little to no air in my lungs, tried to swallow. Nope, stuck. Tried to cough. Nope, no air.
Glanced at the clock, and took note of the time.
Had been a good, regular swimmer in my teens, so the clock was important. I knew that I could go at least two minutes without breathing and still be competent.
Became aware of my current mortality, and observed that time dilation effect of hitting a corner too fast settling in.
Tried a bunch of stuff, fingers in throat to try to get the gag reflex thing happening, amongst them, picked up the phone...silly idea, couldn't speak obviously, and around the 1:30 mark, started to write a note to my girlfriend, and work out where to lay down.
Was past 2 minutes when I spied the overhanging end of the breakfast bar, it was a high bar, above normal table level, needing stools to reach it comfortably. I realised that was right about diaphragm level, stepped back a few paces, and ran at it full tilt, in an attempt to perform something like the Heimlich manoeuvre. Hit the bench right at the right level. Compressed what was in my lungs and whipped me over the bench quite violently.
Onion, released, popped out and rolled along the bench, like some Stephen King movie effect...then just sat there.
Dunno why this has popped into my head the last few days at 50. Had a few near drowns as a teenager, and many many too fast corners into my early 20s. I think that this incident was one of the only ones where I knew 100% that I was alone, and that if I couldn't fix it, no-one else was going to.
Shared a house in Sydney with some friends and a girlfriend while we were all at University.
Home alone one day, reached into the fridge and grabbed a pickled onion...had it in my mouth, savouring the vinegar, as I walked to the loungeroom to see what was on the idjit box.
Hooked my foot on a fold in the carpet (rental, bad carpet), and felt the onion slide down my throat and get stuck. Right in the middle of my throat.
Was on a breath intake, so little to no air in my lungs, tried to swallow. Nope, stuck. Tried to cough. Nope, no air.
Glanced at the clock, and took note of the time.
Had been a good, regular swimmer in my teens, so the clock was important. I knew that I could go at least two minutes without breathing and still be competent.
Became aware of my current mortality, and observed that time dilation effect of hitting a corner too fast settling in.
Tried a bunch of stuff, fingers in throat to try to get the gag reflex thing happening, amongst them, picked up the phone...silly idea, couldn't speak obviously, and around the 1:30 mark, started to write a note to my girlfriend, and work out where to lay down.
Was past 2 minutes when I spied the overhanging end of the breakfast bar, it was a high bar, above normal table level, needing stools to reach it comfortably. I realised that was right about diaphragm level, stepped back a few paces, and ran at it full tilt, in an attempt to perform something like the Heimlich manoeuvre. Hit the bench right at the right level. Compressed what was in my lungs and whipped me over the bench quite violently.
Onion, released, popped out and rolled along the bench, like some Stephen King movie effect...then just sat there.
Dunno why this has popped into my head the last few days at 50. Had a few near drowns as a teenager, and many many too fast corners into my early 20s. I think that this incident was one of the only ones where I knew 100% that I was alone, and that if I couldn't fix it, no-one else was going to.
