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Holy Heimlich
Everybody usually has a normal day at work.
You go in, you go to lunch and then you go home. My wife's days are usually like that, but Sunday something special happened.
She works at a non-profit agency, and the work she does takes a heart of gold.
She has to have special training, CPR and so forth, but I'm sure she wasn't ready for what was in store for her when she woke up that morning.
I'm guessing the story goes a little something like this. (Men have selective listening skills, sometimes it works and other times it fails miserably)
She shows up, punches in, and goes on about her business. But when lunch was served, lunch was really served.
The cook at my wife's work decided to not chew/swallow lunch correctly. Seconds later the cook couldn't breathe and her life was flashing before her eyes.
Much like every other women who have an instinct for trouble, my wife rushes to the cook's aid. She starts patting the woman on the back, but nothing. She starts violently slapping the cook on the back, again the desirable effect wasn't happening.
So my wife lassoed the cook by the stomach/chest and started thrusting away. Bingo. A little bit of lunch popped out and everybody was happy.
When she told me the news, I didn't know what to think. I didn't even know she knew the Heimlich. I don't know the Heimlich.
My wife's been pregnant for a short time, so morning sickness has settled in quite nicely. What would have happened if she couldn't have made it to work Sunday?
I don't want to even imagine the possibilities. I'm the cop’s reporter on the weekends, and I can only image seeing the images of a lifeless body. Enough said.
Bottom Line: I love my wife - the Heroine.
Posted by Clayton Hein at 02:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
