some of you have heard this...
Five Christmases (english majors help me out here) ago I was celebrating with the rest of the Clan Stewart at Uncle Peter and Aunt Rosemary's house. The men had just come up from milking the cows and we were about to open our Christmas crackers. I had been playing my guitar with some cousins, and as my pants were rather tight I had my guitar pick in my mouth and was flipping it around on my tongue. The cracker opening began (homemade crackers - constructed my Mom, Grandma and Aunties) and we shared the jokes we found inside. The joke Uncle Peter received seemed to really tickle my funny bone because I started to laugh. In the process of laughing I inhaled and the guitar pick flew to the back of my throat and stayed there. This prevented breathing. After choking for sometime I was able to manipulate my mouth in such a way that I was able to swallow the pick. Not smart I know. But attempts at expectorating the pick had failed. I looked up at the rest of the family (who had just realized that I was undergoing physical duress) and said, "I swallowed it." Then came the Spanish Inquisition over what I had swallowed and how I had managed to do so. My Mom called the hospital to see if it would be wise to bring me in and they said it would be. So we laced up our boots and drove to the hospital. While we were doing this it became very apparent that the pick was stuck. It had become lodged at the entrance to my stomach and everytime I swallowed my esophagus contracted around it, creating great amounts of pain. It felt to me that I had swallowed a knife. The hospital didn't quite know what to do with me, and as it was Christmas day they didn't have a lot of time to devote to me. So I sat there in pain and waited. After much in decision they finally made a choice to hook my up to an I.V. and pump some natural endorphins into me with the purpose of getting my esophagus to relax. They got me hooked up to the I.V. but by the time they got around to bring around the synthetic chemicals the pick had worked its way down into my stomach and I was no longer in pain. My Mom and I traveled home. We got no Christmas dessert.
The moral of this story is that have that guitar pick ;)
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