I was nineteen and living in a cheap walk-up apartment I had rented with my 18-year-old girlfriend. We thought the place was a mansion. The two of us had just graduated from Business School and landed a job.
I invited my 12-year-old sister to spend the weekend with us. We were sitting around the table laughing and acting as silly as teenagers and a twelve-year-old can, when I got very tickled and the fish I was chewing got sucked down my windpipe. I tried to stay calm. I got up and walked around trying to get my breath. When I couldn't, I panicked and began running frantically around the apartment in a wild and crazy last claw for life. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I was going to die...and ...I did!