Revitalizing a Fallen Athlete (Part 1 of 4)

Knocked Off My High Horse

I went back to my parent’s house for Easter break and on Saturday, April 20th, I decided to visit my grandparents. As an only child and no longer living at home with my parents, their fridge and pantry is now usually pretty bare. Every time I am coming back even for a day or two, my mom always makes a big fuss and goes to the grocery store to stock the place with food. Since I had been eating so much at the time and gaining weight, it was even escalated to another level. She asked what I wanted her to cook and one thing I thought sounded good was steak kabobs. I knew I could not stay at my grandparents for hours on end because we were having the kabobs for dinner. But since I do not see them often anymore, I wanted to have time visiting without the rest of the family around for Easter the next day.

After a couple hours of talking, I knew it was time to get home for dinner. By the time I arrived back at my parent’s house, the kabobs were ready. I sat down and started eating and pulled a large block of steak off the stick. The piece was shaped like a cube and probably measured an inch long and an inch wide. Like the saying goes “hindsight is 2020” and I should have cut the steak into three or four pieces. Instead, I decided I could just chew it. That turned into a costly mistake.

While chewing, I coughed and the inhale from the cough led to the large piece of steak lodging in my throat. I immediately couldn’t breathe and started grabbing my neck. Both of my parents noticed something was wrong but it took a quick second to register. My mom was the first one to jump up and she shouted, “Clark, he’s choking!” as I began to stand up. My dad sprung into action and started performing the Heimlich Maneuver while my mom rushed to the phone to call 911. After about six attempts to dislodge the meat from my throat, my dad stopped because I raised my hand up to signal stop. What I had realized is that despite not coming up, the meat moved just enough that I could breathe out my nose. In one minute that felt like an hour, I went from thinking I was going to die and had reached the end to survival mode. I decided I would just breathe out my nose and stay calm until the EMT’s arrived so they would be able to save me if needed.

I stood in the kitchen and left the steak in my throat for over five minutes. I can still hear the gurgling sound in my throat and feel the pain of my throat being stretched out. Despite the misery of that wait, I knew it wasn’t worth trying to get the steak to move again without medical personnel there. Once the paramedics arrived, I was able to muster up enough strength to violently cough up the steak. I stood over the kitchen sink for several minutes and just stared at the piece of meat that had just been lodged in my throat. In that moment, I had no idea that piece of meat would destroy me. It would break me down in more ways than I ever thought possible.

Despite the burn and sore feeling in my throat, I returned to dinner and continued to eat because I had not fully grasped what had happened. I figured everything was fine but I was already embarrassed immediately by just knowing my parents witnessed that and needing their help. My ego and pride had been instantly hit and it would continue that night. My grandpa used to serve as a volunteer firefighter so my grandparents still have an old scanner in their living room. They heard the call from dispatch to send the ambulance and were well aware of what had happened.

Like most parents would do in today’s era, my mom posted on Facebook to say how blessed we were as a family to have my life saved and to praise my dad for jumping to my aid and being a hero. Rather than being thankful to be alive, I was angry and embarrassed that family and friends knew about the incident before I had even processed what had happened to me. The next day at Easter with the family, I had no desire to talk due to the embarrassment. I felt so weak that a choking incident almost took me out.

I then returned to my single apartment in Berea to get ready for my final two weeks of the semester. I wanted to just hide from the incident and move on. I thought being back at my place would put the whole incident behind me but I was so wrong. The worst had not yet begun.