In Perspective.

My neighbor almost knocked down my door a few minutes ago. She was pounding and screaming and generally freaking out. I was in my boxers. I didn't know what was going on, but she was freaking out. I went into the hall and she's screaming "my baby's not breathing!" She was carrying the baby in her arms. The baby is very, very small and clearly not breathing. I have no idea what to do with a baby that's not breathing, so i run back inside, get my phone and call 911. Meanwhile, my other neighbor has opened her door and has gotten the baby to resume breathing, although the baby's still having trouble and seems slightly out of it. The ambulance is on the way, i'm told. The 911 operator stays on the phone with me and has us lay the baby flat on her back and hold up her head. The baby cries a little, which is good, but she's still not breathing right. The police show up, but still no ambulance.

The fucking ambulance takes forever. Finally, by the time the ambulance gets here, the baby's breathing ok. The mom's crying, but still with it. The woman that got the baby breathing again is pretty much a super hero. It took the ambulance so long to get here, i don't know what would have happened without her.

The baby and her mom just got taken to the hospital. I'm pretty sure everything's going to be ok. Thank god.

Just sorta puts things in perspective, though, you know?