Before you read this, here’s a full disclaimer:Â I am the Associate Program Lead here at Isis for CPR and First Aid. But I am not writing this in that role. I am writing this as a parent.
Wednesday morning my daughter, who is almost four years old, choked. She choked on a piece of a balloon that she was trying to blow up. Yes, a balloon. And yes, that makes me a hypocrite; because in every CPR class I teach I always tell parents and caregivers how dangerous balloons can be and that children should not play with them.
We were in Pennsylvania visiting my family. My mom uses inflated balloons as a mechanism to keep her dog off the sofa overnight (the dog is a German Shepard mix, but is afraid of everything, including balloons!) So, Wednesday morning, when we all woke up, the living room sofa was decorated in balloons as it is every morning. I didn’t think anything of it, I never did. Ava usually doesn’t even play with the balloons because she knows Cherokee’s afraid of them and she likes to keep Cherokee at her side at all times.
My brother was upstairs sleeping and my mom was in the bathroom getting ready for the day. Ava, Cherokee and I were in the den. I sat down to check email as they played next to me. I saw out of the corner of my eye that Ava had a deflated balloon but it didn’t fully register until all of a sudden she was at my side, with the deflated balloon in her hand and a fear-stricken look on her face.
I can’t really tell you exactly what happened after that. At least not in the order things occurred. I all of a sudden had too many thoughts in my head, tears in my eyes, and panic running through my body. I know I asked her what happened and she didn’t respond. I asked her if she could talk and she shook her head ‘no’. I looked into her mouth, and saw in the very back of her throat, a piece of the navy blue balloon. I almost went to reach for it, but stopped myself. “You idiot! What are you doing?” a voice screamed in my head, “You know not to do that!” I remember screaming for my mom and realizing I couldn’t hear Ava breathing. I turned Ava around. I remember saying “I love you, I love you” as I felt for her zyphoid (to make sure I was below it) and started doing abdominal thrusts.
My mom came into the room and I told her to call 9-1-1. I know how dangerous balloons can be. I know they can mold to a person’s airway and completely block out any air. I was hoping for the best but imagining every worse case scenerio and I didn’t want to waste anytime. Part of me was confident that I was going to dislodge this balloon. The other part of me didn’t want to take the risk of not having the EMT’s there if necessary. My concept of time during all of this was completely off, so I don’t want to estimate how long all of this took. I just know that as I listened to my mom call 9-1-1, my brother came running down the stairs and the dog came running at me. She saw Ava in distress and wanted to help her. The look on Cherokee’s face scared me, because it was obvious she thought I was hurting Ava.
Finally, what felt like minutes later (but was probably only seconds), Ava made a coughing sound. The tightness I felt in her stomach started to go away and she started to breath. The balloon was no where to be found- she swallowed the piece. As my mind raced with worries of a latex allergy, Ava turned around and looked at me in amazement. I knew at that moment she was okay because with her hands on her hips, in true Ava-fashion, she scolded me, “Don’t you ever do that again, Momma! You hurt my tummy!” I laughed, then cried, and hugged her.
My mom was still talking to the dispatcher and I still wanted the EMTs to come to make sure Ava was okay. My parents live in a rural area and their house can be easy to pass if you don’t know where to look. It took the EMT’s 15 minutes to arrive. All I could think is thank God I knew what to do. This bad situation could have gotten a lot worse very quickly. After the EMTs assessed Ava and had me fill out all the paperwork, the one woman thanked me. I’ll forever remember her words: “Thank you for knowing what to do. Too many parents don’t.”
It’s been 48 hours since this occurred. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since then. I watched my daughter sleep for most of the last two nights, just so grateful that she is able to breathe. I keep reflecting on how important it is that all parents, caregivers, any one who may be left alone with a child, knows what to do. So, as a parent, I ask all of you to please take the time to be trained in CPR and First Aid. I tell parents in my classes all the time, “I hope you never need to use any of the skills you learned today.” That is my hope for all of you. But you never know when someone’s life may depend on you knowing what to do!
Associate Program Lead, CPR and First Aid
Choking Prevention Information











