I think last night is the first time I've ever called 9-1-1. You were playing near our kitchen cart, pulling the tupperwares out. I was busy cleaning up the kitchen and I am guessing you tried to climb up in the cart. I heard you start whining and lo and behold, you had gotten your leg stuck in between the little wooden slats.
At first I laughed at you, silly girl! Then I realized I couldn't get your foot through. It was really scary because I started thinking, "What if your circulation gets cut off?" What if I ruin your leg forever and it was all because of this moment?
I was trying to test the strength of the wood to see if I could pull the slat off, but there was no way I could have broken it, so then I started thinking about what I had to use to break it. I was thinking I needed to try lotion too maybe. It was really wedged, it would not budge, and you were crying. I was freaking out (on the inside) so I called 9-1-1 because I didn't want to waste a second if you were going to risk losing your foot. I was imagining me trying everything and your foot turning blue and losing feeling.
They were transferring me and telling me that they couldn't hear me because my baby was crying and I was like, no duh! They were pretty rude sounding, but luckily I got your foot out while I was on hold. I just had to get it at the right angle and pull harder than I was comfortable doing.
You were pretty upset for a few minutes but then we played and you seemed fine. I moved your ankle around, pressed on your foot, and tried to see if anything was hurting you. We are safe! No pain.
And what did you do today? Went right back over there and started playing again.
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