My Son Saved My Life.

I look forward to seeing what the next generations do for themselves, 

us and the world in the coming years. 

At 14 my son saved a life. 

It was mine.

Not figuratively.

He ACTUALLY saved my life.

Because of his quick thinking I’m here today.

Read on:

Active in health and fitness

for myself and others,

I ate right, 

exercised , 

took supplements, 

and meditated.

Doing EVERYTHING right.




Me:   in the kitchen of the home my son and I shared. 

He:  watching television in the adjacent living room.

Post workout.

A fist full of vitamins, 

and a large gulp of water.


Quickly I realized they weren’t sliding down.

More water. 

THAT wouldn’t go down.

No water flow, 

no air flow.



Grabbing my throat: I was choking.

Couldn’t call out to my son – 

no air, no sound.

I stepped around the corner of the kitchen 

to face the living room 

and banged hard on the wall.

He finally looked over 

and saw the international sign for 


(It’s two hands around your throat. Simple. I hope you never have to use it.)

Calmly he walked into the kitchen – 

immediately, AND PERFECTLY 

he applied Heimlich maneuver to me. 

It took several attempts 

and OUT catapulted the vitamins 

across the kitchen.

I gasped.

Thinking what MIGHT have happened 

and what actually DID happen.

He hugged me, 

looked at me, 

wise old soul that he is 

and said:

“You ok now, Mom?”

Tears streaming down my face 

I nodded and hugged him again.

 ”You just saved my life. Do you realize that?”

 “Yea, ok, just don’t take so many vitamins next time.”  


He walked back into the living room,  

sat down 

and resumed his viewing. 


I want to be that cool. 

What did I do to deserve such a cool son? 

AND WHERE did he learn the Heimlich?”

A grown young man now 

hope he never has to use it again.

One supplement at a time, my friends.

One supplement at a time.

I made haste to the nearest Red Cross

and renewed my First Aid, 


and CPR certifications.


 I was called upon to tend to 

a motorcyclist 

crashed on the highway.

He lived, too.

© KaZAkers