The Girl and the Hot Dog

She came in wearing a baseball cap decorated like a wedding veil. Only two nights of freedom left before she tied the knot. 6 of "the girls" went to a Friday night baseball game -almost the end of the season.

Laughing, cheering her team on, she was excited about her upcoming nuptials. Suddenly, the hot dog was stuck. Right in the middle of her chest. She could feel it. Totally weird, because she could breathe fine. Swig beer. Nothing. Swig beer again only to upchuck without warning. Try as she might, nothing would go down past her manubrium. Her maid of honor, a life guard long ago, decided to try the heimlich manuever. One, two, three, four, five. Nothing, nada, zip.

In the "olden days" some of us would try Nifedipine sublingually. Others tried warm Coca Cola and a few would give them meat tenderizer. Sometimes these worked, sometimes not.

Now, I try Glucagon. Twice. Then I try Nitroglycerine. Nothing, just big headache and now the poor woman can't even take tylenol. "Call GI", my consulting doc advises. "She just needs scoped" he says.

2am. GI doc says "fine, admit her". "I'll see her in the morning".

"Please, can you do it as early as possible". "She is sweet, she is getting married on Sunday, she has good insurance", I beg.

"I'll see her in the morning". Click.

She is sobbing, mascara running down her cheeks. She is getting married in less than 48 hours. No time for an endoscopy on Saturday. " Please, can't you just shove a stick down my throat", she begs.