I thought he was going to get pulled right out of my arms

Hey, this incident happened during the summer of 2011 but the blog has listed it as being April 2012. If I had half a brain I'd know how to fix it, but I don't so I can't. He's had some really, REALLY close calls in his life, and that's not even counting his time in the NICU. A least a few times I've had every nerve of my body light on fire and scream as I see Baron doing something that will definately get him hurt, maybe a trip to the hospital. About two weeks ago he cracked his head open for the first time. SWEET! He was running in Andy's house and fell and hit his head on the corner of Andy's table. Gave him a gash in his head about an inch and a half long. I was so ready to jump in the car and race to the closest ER. But, it didn't bleed much, which is a good sign with a head wound, right? And, of course, would you believe HE DIDN'T CRY!!!!!!!!!!! He winced, he writhed, he wined a little, but he did not cry. Crazy, freaky, unatural little monster.
But, today he cried. Reader, never in my life have I lived a moment of my life and thought, "This is just like a horror movie, but it's really happening to me, right now." Until today. We were playin around Lloyd Center Mall, killin time, disrupting the general calm, just another father/son outing. We were in the elevator bound for the third floor. The food court. I was holding him because he's been a real pain in the patootie the last couple of days, can't be trusted on his feet. We're right up against the doors as they open to let us out and I start to walk forward but only take a half step before I'm jerked back a little and instintively tug on Baron and look over and see that the doors are jammed because Baron's hand is wedged between the two layers of door. I pulled and he wouldn't budge, he was really stuck in there and the doors aren't opening back up like they're supposed to when they become stuck. I can't reach the door controls. The small group of people on the other side of the half way open door are still trying to comprehend what is going on. Now, this all happened in the course of maybe five or six seconds but it really, truly seemed a lot longer. I was hyper aware of every nuance of the situation. And for a split second that elevator was a giant, evil, unstoppable terminator machine that had a hold of my son and was hurting him. I was in a panic and I did what my instincts told me to do; pull. Now, in retrospect I realize this was probably not the best course of action but I did it and he popped free and then he started crying as I held him against my chest and pushed straight through the people waiting to get on the elevator. I rushed over to a quiet spot and checked him out and he was okay, probably more scared by my actions than any actual pain. A friggin elevator. Is everything dangerous?