Always Party with the Nurses

When my brother Dave married his wife, there were about 25 little, adorable, Irish girls running around.  I couldn't keep their names straight, so they were dubbed "the nieces."
The nieces are now grown up with children of their own.  At lot of those children were on display at our nephew's graduation party last Saturday night.   Interestingly, a lot of the nieces grew up to be nurses or otherwise in health care.
Last Saturday, I was sitting at a table with my parents, brother and friends when my Mom started coughing and turning blue.  I tried to get her to talk while saying, "Steve, Steve, Steve, Mom's choking."  He jumped up and grabbed her around the waist.
Within seconds, one of the nieces said, "Move, I'm a nurse."  She grabbed Mom, did the Heimlich maneuver and talked to Mom to make sure she was okay.  A few seconds later she returned to her table as if nothing ever happened.
Mom was okay, but we were all a little shook up.  It's not like we're not all a little emotionally edgy anyway.  Even my Dad looked a little off-color as he kept saying, "Are you okay?" 
I've always adored the nieces, but never more than when one of them helped my Mom.