The Skittle of Death
The only reason I'm telling this is to appease the Sister. It's not really a good story to me, but it seems my mentally deranged family gets a kick out of people cheating death...when it's not them. I don't remember all the details, but I'm sure the Sister will be happy to fill in the blanks.
I don't remember if there was any special occasion, but for some reason I was at my sister's house and, I believe, so was most of my immediate family. Anyway, I was sitting in a chair in the living room, eating Skittles. Delicious Skittles, those fruit flavored little globules of sugar. You know, it's like tasting the rainbow. As I was popping those little rainbow pellets into my mouth, one took a detour and went down my windpipe. I immediately took note. It seemed that my windpipe was exactly one millimeter smaller than the diameter of a Skittle.
You might not be aware of this, but the one way you can distinguish a choking person from, say, a coughing person is that they stand up. I don't mean scoot the chair back and stand up, I mean turn-the-table-over-bolt -upright. It's sort of like you become a human exclamation point. If the sight of a person bolting upright isn't enough, there's an added auditory signal very similar to the call of an excited sea lion. So you've got the picture...I'm standing up, red-faced and barking like a sea lion begging for a mackerel.
My family watched intently as the Grim Reaper slipped his boney hands around my throat and did his dead level best to separate my soul from my physical body. Granted a couple of them stood up, but they just panicked as my sister yelled, "JIM, DO SOMETHING!" or words to that affect. Jim, being an obedient husband jumped up, ran over to me and performed the Heimlich maneuver. One quick squeeze and the lodged pellet burst from my wind pipe into my mouth.
Obviously there was a look of relief on my face, but I was surprised to see one on my sister's face, as well. She's wanted me dead ever since I can remember. As could be expected, she fussed at Jim for taking too long to rescue me. Jim, in his own defense, said, "I thought y'all were doing a skit!" Honestly I can't remember the last time we did a "skit". We usually don't even have a writer for our family get-together's, let alone pull off anything close to theatrical quality...well that's not exactly true, there have been a couple of occasions. In the end, I survived and I am grateful to Jim for saving my life or being forced to participate in my "skit", whichever.
As a side note, it was years before I ate another Skittle. One afternoon I stopped by the vending machine before leaving work and they were out of "Mike and Ikes" and "Hot Tamales" so I purchased a package of Skittles. As I drove home, I carefully placed one Skittle at a time in my mouth. It didn't matter, I got choked anyway. This time I managed to cough it up on my own. Now I know that God never intended for me to "Taste the Rainbow".
I don't remember if there was any special occasion, but for some reason I was at my sister's house and, I believe, so was most of my immediate family. Anyway, I was sitting in a chair in the living room, eating Skittles. Delicious Skittles, those fruit flavored little globules of sugar. You know, it's like tasting the rainbow. As I was popping those little rainbow pellets into my mouth, one took a detour and went down my windpipe. I immediately took note. It seemed that my windpipe was exactly one millimeter smaller than the diameter of a Skittle.
You might not be aware of this, but the one way you can distinguish a choking person from, say, a coughing person is that they stand up. I don't mean scoot the chair back and stand up, I mean turn-the-table-over-bolt -upright. It's sort of like you become a human exclamation point. If the sight of a person bolting upright isn't enough, there's an added auditory signal very similar to the call of an excited sea lion. So you've got the picture...I'm standing up, red-faced and barking like a sea lion begging for a mackerel.
My family watched intently as the Grim Reaper slipped his boney hands around my throat and did his dead level best to separate my soul from my physical body. Granted a couple of them stood up, but they just panicked as my sister yelled, "JIM, DO SOMETHING!" or words to that affect. Jim, being an obedient husband jumped up, ran over to me and performed the Heimlich maneuver. One quick squeeze and the lodged pellet burst from my wind pipe into my mouth.
Obviously there was a look of relief on my face, but I was surprised to see one on my sister's face, as well. She's wanted me dead ever since I can remember. As could be expected, she fussed at Jim for taking too long to rescue me. Jim, in his own defense, said, "I thought y'all were doing a skit!" Honestly I can't remember the last time we did a "skit". We usually don't even have a writer for our family get-together's, let alone pull off anything close to theatrical quality...well that's not exactly true, there have been a couple of occasions. In the end, I survived and I am grateful to Jim for saving my life or being forced to participate in my "skit", whichever.
As a side note, it was years before I ate another Skittle. One afternoon I stopped by the vending machine before leaving work and they were out of "Mike and Ikes" and "Hot Tamales" so I purchased a package of Skittles. As I drove home, I carefully placed one Skittle at a time in my mouth. It didn't matter, I got choked anyway. This time I managed to cough it up on my own. Now I know that God never intended for me to "Taste the Rainbow".
Posted by TBF at 3/8/2009 10:51 PM 
Categories: History for 500 dollars
Tags: Skittles Heimlich Maneuver choking
Categories: History for 500 dollars
Tags: Skittles Heimlich Maneuver choking
Filling in the blanks here. I, being the alert one in the family, instantly noticed that you were in distress. The purple shade of your face was a clue. The chopping motion you were making at your throat was another. As I sprung into action, I immediately tried to do the Heimlich on you but there was one small problem. You are too tall and I couldn't reach your Heimlich. As you were crumbling to the floor...and taking me with you...I started yelling at Jim. My exact words were "Jim, get your ass up outta that chair and do something!!!" Daddy was frozen in position like a lawn jockey holding the newspaper and Mama was probably wondering why somebody wasn't singing...since it was a skit and all. It was exciting alright. Never a dull moment.
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Now I understand Jim's confusion. With that description how could it not be a "skit"?
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Post Script.........it was green and it flew out of your mouth and landed about 4 feet out in the living room floor. It's understandable that in your near-death state you wouldn't remember the colorful little details.
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what are you doing swallowing them whole?
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Yes, I take them like pills. Actually, their shape and the outer coating make them slip down your throat too easily. Add to it the fact that I, for whatever reason, have a tendancy to "pop" them into my mouth. Or, perhaps, just stupid, I guess.
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This skit of yours scarred me for life. Although now I think back and laugh so hard about it all, it no doubt scarred me. My kids are not allowed to eat skittles "alone". They must be smushed first and the child must be monitored while eating it. They think I'm crazy!
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Well, it scarred me, too. They should put a notice on the bag warning that you must use the buddy system when eating them. Kind of like weightlifting, you have to have a spotter.
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