Just call CPS: Boo under the cabinet

When Boo was 11 months old to the day, and I was one month short of Bubbi's due date to the day (yes, Bubbi was due on Boo's first birthday), drama struck.

I was waddling around the playroom/kitchen area cleaning toys while Boo played happily with his books under the cabinet. I looked up to see Boo chewing on a new cassette tape (yeah, I know...I have records lying around too) in plastic wrap that I had shoved in with his books well before he was born. Stupid inexperienced mom! I waddled over to him to grab it from him before he chewed off a piece of plastic - AKA chocking hazard.

Crap. I small chunk of the plastic was missing. Ok, deep breath. I checked him out and he was breathing but making an odd sound like he was trying to get something out of the back of his throat.

Here's where I go wrong...PANIC! I shoved my pointer finger in his mouth to try and scoop it out. He started screaming in pain as blood started dripping out of his mouth.

More panic. I called my friend who's husband is a fireman. He was at work. I didn't want to be a psycho mother and call 911 all willy-nilly. He was breathing fine, but was screaming and small amounts of blood was streaking his drool. She said, "when I doubt, call 911". Why the hell didn't I think of that?!?! STUPID PANICKING MOTHER!

So I hang up with her and call 911...from my cell. We're cheap if you haven't gathered that yet, so no land line. Dude that answers asks me what county and transfers me to my local dispatch. Stupid **&^ said, "no, you don't like in our county...what's your address...blah blah blah". More stupid panicking mother. I know what county I live in, but I let the stupid **&^ transfer me to the neighboring county's dispatch. They knew I need to be transferred back to the first dispatch once I gave them my address and send me back.

Can we all shout, "THANK GOD BOO WAS BREATHING OTHERWISE HE'D BE DEAD BY NOW"!

I get the same stupid **&^ on the phone and she sends help. In the meantime my awesome friend shows up...about 10 minutes later a heard of hot firemen show up.

Now keep in mind this is late in the afternoon and I am huge pregnant. I'm wearing one of my house tanks soaked and stained with belly emollients and probably pajama shorts. I'm crying from terror and Boo is hysterical from the commotion.

After a few minutes and several different firemen attempts, a piece of plastic is pulled from Boo's mouth. No one is sure if there is more and the stupid fireman who took it out had no clue where he put it.

I can, A: assume its all been removed and go on with my afternoon, B: drive him myself to the closest ER and hope he doesn't have another piece suffocate him in the meantime or C: crusie in an ambulance with some EMTs that could save him should another section decide to block his airway...AMBULANCE PLEASE!

So we cruise in the ambulance to the local hospital. Husband shows up. Doctor decides we should do an x-ray of his chest/throat to see if we can see more. No clue if plastic shows up on an x-ray, but sounded like a better option than just pray his airway was clear and he wouldn't die in his sleep that night.

Several hours pass and after finding nothing we go home with an order to search poop for plastic for the next few days so we didn't need to worry about digestion blockage/issues. Lucky me...lucky pregnant me.

Insert several large, steamy poops and two days. I'm cleaning the counter and there it is...the piece of plastic said fireman removed from Boo's mouth. It was all folded up. Once I unfolded it I was able to match it perfectly to the missing piece on the cassette tape.

Bastard hot fireman! I could have saved myself the expense of an ambulance ride and trip to the ER, not to mention the years of life I gained on my face, hours I wasted at the ER, nasty time spent digging through poop, super traumatic x-ray for Boo and the respect I lost from the husband. DAMN YOU!