Wednesday, March 1, 2017

going down

His alarm goes off at 4 AM.  No matter how many times I have heard it in the 2 years since, the softly graduating charms still raise the same dread they did the morning it went off in the Apache Hotel.
It was one of the few weekends we went down to visit BC the year he worked and lived in Moab. I think we had a half a day with him, one dinner, and one night.  Then at 5 AM his alarm went off and he creep out of the dingy little hotel room to return to work.  Leaving Beach and I behind.
So 4 AM on the day before Beach and I leave for Ohio and BC crawls out of bed.  He's heading to Price to salvage cedar planks off some mountain.  It's horrible timing I could really use his help today but he has to already know that and obviously doesn't care.
When I pulled in late last night he and his buddy were in the drive way loading 4-wheelers onto the trailer. Which suddenly explained why the dinner I had prepared for us was ignored and I sent to bring home pizza.

Work had been a slowly building avalanche all night. Ending with a crush of parents needing help. They came crashing in right at 8 PM when we are supposed to close the desk down for the night. They came crashing down right as I did....
I had felt it coming, the fog, the lightheadedness, the numbness, but I was too busy to stop and fix it. 

And the thing about avalanches and dropping blood sugar is when they hit you get too turned around to know what to do.  Too confused to explain. Too drunk-like to ask for help. 

In fact when my blood sugar crashes like that I tend to go into injured dog mood.  I look for a way to hide.  Go far out of my way to avoid help.  It's not logical but it's how it goes down.
However, I knew exactly how I got there. An eighth of a banana, a half of a half a sandwich, a slice of apple, a handful of walnuts and 60 minutes of HILT training. Extra hours at work, extra stress at home, still sick and still running.
At 4:40 AM BC closed the front door behind him. I crawled out of bed doing the head-math; a 12 hour day ahead of me at work, get Beach off to my parents, a film crew at the gym, leaving for Ohio the next day, dinner, laundry, banking, packing...shit I know I am forgetting a ton of stuff I have to do.
I check the clock and all I can think is, hey, if I hurry I have time for a run before work.  Then out of shear curiosity I pull from the bottom of my closet a pair of jean and I slip them on.  Yeah, that's what I thought I can fit back into the next size down.

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