Choking - The Day It Happened

It was late afternoon and I was giving my eleven month-old first born an early dinner.

I placed a spoonful of puree chicken stir fry in his mouth and proceeded to scoop up the next lot when I heard him gagging.

This was a fairly common occurrence so I calmly stood up and patted his back. However, the coughing continued.

Slightly alarmed I scooped him out of the high chair and began back blows, like we’d been taught at antenatal classes. The gagging continued.

It was at this stage the plan I’d mentally rehearsed, should this nightmare ever occur, kicked into action. I raced downstairs with my now convulsing baby in my arms. But when I reached the door he stopped.

Thank god, I breathed, false alarm. But then I saw his face.

My baby was completely blue and limp.

Screaming ‘Help’, I sprinted next door with Cadeyn now unconscious.

My neighbour came running out to meet me on the drive and grabbed him from me.

“Call 111,” I shrieked to the others who had emerged.

They ducked back inside while, for a second or two, I watched my neighbour frantically patting Cadeyn’s back.

At this point I asked myself, do I stand here watching helplessly and leave the one chance I have at saving my son’s life in someone else’s hands, in which case, if it didn’t work I’d never forgive myself for not trying harder? Or do I give it all I’ve got?

I grabbed my son back – his limp body feeling heavy in my arms - and started pelting the heel of my hand between his shoulder blades, but to no avail.

I remember thinking then: “Oh my god, I’ve lost my baby two weeks before his first birthday”.

“It’s too late,” I cried to the neighbour who seemed to be talking so calmly on the phone.

As I ran with him over to the porch I tried to recall the sternum compressions we’d been taught at antenatal classes. Was it two fingers or three now that he was no longer a new born?

I lay him on his back intending to unconfidently carry this out but then saw his face.

That was when I lost it and, in one last-ditch effort, began mouth-to-mouth.

“Jodi, he’s breathing,” my neighbour put her hand on my arm and stopped me.

Somewhere along the line, perhaps due to the relaxed throat muscles, the unknown food item had dislodged and he’d started breathing again. My boy’s completely blue and swollen body was now erratically taking in air.

I picked his heavy body up in my arms and held him close to me as tears rolled down both our cheeks.

We sat like this on the porch in the sweltering March sun for I don’t know how long – his little body convulsing with his sobs and the effort to breathe.

Finally the ambulance arrived, guided by the neighbours’ kids, and by this stage I was in a daze. We carried out the procedures in a strangely calm way, before they transported me and Cadeyn – with tubes attached to his body and an oxygen mask over his face - to the hospital.

But on the way in he started to close his eyes again.

“He looks like he’s about to have a sleep,” commented the ambulance officer.

“Well he shouldn’t,” I replied, instantly alarmed. “He’s only recently woken up.”

The adrenaline kicked in all over again and she was straight on her feet making adjustments to a machine while I urged Cadeyn to wake.

But then he opened his eyes, smiled weakly at me and said “mama” in a soft voice and it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.

By the time we got to the hospital, where his father was waiting, he was back to his old self. It was only after, I realised his dad had been due to come home while it was unfolding, but had worked slightly late that evening. This was a blessing as I wouldn’t have wished the sight he would have seen upon anyone.

I learnt some valuable lessons that day – one: do a first aid refresher course, and two: you and your children are not invincible. As parents we can get complacent and take things for granted but it can happen to anyone at anytime.

For information on courses such as Choking and CPR, visit www.stjohn.org.nz or phone 0800 ST JOHN (0800 785646).