Your Weekly Whoomp

Someone asked me about the 1/2 CPR. I guess it would be kinda cruel to let any new readers wait a week for the next whoomp.
The 1/2 CPR was on my youngest son, Keith, and I consider it 1/2 because, I, frankly didn’t know what I was doing, and was probably as scared as I’ve ever been.
My ex and I stopped at a small restaurant near the Mass/Rhode Island border one night, on the way home from visiting my parents.
We were talking casually over our meals when Karen said, “Dan, look at Keith!”
I looked at him and he was blue, obviously not breathing. At the point in my life, if someone had mentioned CPR, I would have said, “Who? You’re not talking about LBJ, RMN etc.” I have to admit I had taking a mouth to mouth resuscitation course in Boy Scouts, but that training evaporated. This was my SON!
I, frankly, didn’t know what do, but this was no time to be thinking about taking any kind of life saving course, or wishing I knew what to do! I had to do something fast, even if it was wrong!
I pulled him out of his high chair, laid him on his stomach in my left hand, and hit his back as hard as I dared with the little tyke. This was no time for half measures or gentle patting. I hit him hard, ready to do it again, if I had to. If something didn’t work soon, he was gonna die! I imagined holding him by his feet, upside down, and shaking him, either until he started breathing or someone with some authority stopped me.!
Nothing farther was necessary! A piece of hot dog (I think) flew out of his mouth and onto the floor, and I could feel him breathing. I put him back in his high chair to finish his meal, and he started crying, one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard! I think he thought he did something wrong!
I call it my 1/2 case of CPR because it didn’t involve much of what is taught in CPR class, and I didn’t have any knowledge of heart massage, if it was necessary.
Well, there you have it. Write soon, huh?