Hard to Swallow: Part Two

Sam choked on his dinner last night.

It might have been the scariest 30 seconds of my life. We picked him up from school, and usually he's ravenous from the busy day, but when we started eating he wasn't too interested. Since he was just having some mac n' cheese (AKA cous cous in cheese sauce, because god forbid we ask him to chew up elbow macaroni) I figured we'd power through. Most of the time, if he likes what he's eating he'll do so without complaint, even if he seems disinterested. Last night was a different story though. Sam was putting the food into his mouth, sucking the cheese off the pasta and then tucking the pasta bits into his cheeks. By the time the dish was half empty, his face was blown up like a balloon.

He gagged then, probably because his mouth was so full. All of a sudden, he stopped making noises and his eyes got very large. He started spitting food out of his mouth, but still he was silent. SOB and Allison were there, too, and I thank god for that because I kind of froze up. SOB started yelling, 'This is it! This is it!' All I could think to do was cup my hands in front of his face so that he could spit his food out. SOB jumped up and was probably preparing to give him the Heimlich.

All of a sudden, he was crying. Then throwing up. And then I started crying. After he was finished with the puking, I went to the kitchen to empty and wash my hands. When I got back he was still crying and begging for me. We went upstairs, got cleaned up and he went to bed. By the time we finished with the seventeen stories I read him he was back to his normal self, cheerful and loving. He asked to be put in bed, and after a few songs he blew me a kiss and said 'bye bye mommy.' The only two words he can speak clear as a bell.

For the past month and a half we've been getting the run around from the speech therapist. I didn't get into it much here because it would have just sounded like bitching and moaning, which would have been accurate. The therapist who got assigned to our case wasn't very cooperative. She gave me exactly one option for when we could schedule Sam's sessions, and when that wouldn't work out for us (both smack dab in the middle of nap time and on a school day) she just stopped calling me back. Finally I contacted our coordinator, and we've since been assigned a new therapist who can manage to see us when Sam is awake. We should be starting in a week or two, and frankly I can. Not. Wait. Plus we see the ENT on April 1.

Luckily my boy seems to be free of any ill effects of last night's events. He's coughed a few too many times for my liking, but it doesn't seem to bother him.

I wish I could say the same for myself.

Totally awesome at everything. Except swallowing.