I almost called 911 today!

This morning I went to rouse Dominic out of bed because we had to go out (usually I let him get up when he feels like it)… I tossed some clothes up on the top bunk for him and told him to get up. He couldn’t get his shorts on (they are cut-off jeans and the frayed part kept getting caught on his toes) so I told him to come down and I’d help him. He forgot to bring the shorts with him, so I reached up to grab them. I’m too short to reach over the top of the rail, so I reached between the slats.

This is a wooden bunk bed. The side rail is about 6 feet long, is made of two long boards and three short boards, and slides into grooves on the ends of the bed to keep it in, but also have it easily removable.

Well, my arm got stuck. I had pushed in in past the elbow, and I could not get it back out. I tried for about five minutes, then I decided I needed to take the rail down. Lifting it up was very painful. I had to raise it by about 9 inches to get it out of the grooves, and as I said I’m not tall enough to even reach over the top of it, let alone move it up that high with my upper arm stuck in it! [it was at this point that I was seriously considering having Dominic call 911] Finally after trying everything, I just went for it and nearly screamed. Almost ripped my arm off. But in the end I had the whole rail off the bed–and on my arm.

I tried to get it off again. No luck. I needed help. I ended up calling Dominic’s babysitter’s house to see if her mom was there. They live just at the end of our ‘block’ [read: parking lot loop]. Her mom was there and I said “Can I come over? I have a sort of…emergency.” She said “sure… I’m in my pyjamas…” “That’s ok. It’s either this or call the fire department!” “are you hurt?” “No, just stuck.”

And so I walked down the street to her house, carrying this huge bunkbed rail with me. It was hard to get close enough to her door to knock. We worked it a little, then she went into the kitchen and got a can of spray-on cooking oil. We lubed up my arm and it popped right out! Woohoo! I had a big welt around my arm, and it still hurt, but I was free!

We laughed about it, and in all honesty I wasn’t really embarrassed. But I felt like I should be.

Ow, ow, ow! Anyone who’s been even a little bit stuck can relate, but man… your arm, and in an awkward position, too! I’d be panicking.

There’s no panic like the panic you momentarily feel when you’ve gotten your hand or head stuck in something.


Brings back memories of sticking my head in the railing and having it get stuck when I was a wee little one. I remember being stuck, but don’t remember how my parents got me out.

Eeek! I’m glad you’re okay, but oh! I bet that would’ve been an interesting picture of you walking down the street with a bed rail on your arm.
My kid’s former babysitter once fell halfway through a street grate. It caught her just above the knee, and she was STUCK right there in the middle of the street, cars and bystanders all around, etc. The firefighters had to come rescue her. It took an hour, and at one point, one of the firefighters said, “Saaay! I think you go to high school with my son!”
If a seventeen year old could actually die from embarrassment, I do believe she would have been a textbook case.
Glad you’re okay, and you came through with no broken bones!


The next time UDD goes out of town, you must have a cam left behind so Dominic can get pictures of his silly mama doing silly things.