he was kicked when he was down

I feel like so much has happened since I last wrote a post that I don't even know where to start.  So I haven't written anything.

It kind of reminds me of when my parents and I got to my sister's apartment last Saturday, exactly 39 hours before she was leaving to move 1500 miles away, and she had not packed one item.  Not one single thing.  What she had done was dump everything she owned on the floor of her bedroom.  And then she didn't know where to start, so she just didn't.

Anyway, in the last few weeks there's been a bunch going on.  Emily graduated college.  And moved to a remote part of northern Minnesota.  There have been some tough things happening in the lives of family and friends and work has just been weird/busy and we've been working outside a lot and then last week Matt came down with a cold.

Now, Matt's tough.  He has had type 1 diabetes for 17 years, since he was 12 years old.  He wears an insulin pump and a continuous glucose monitor attached to his body and takes shots and figures out insulin doses and has bad days and high blood sugars and low blood sugars and lousy physical side effects and yet in the 9 years I've known him with diabetes, not one time, NOT ONE TIME EVER, have I heard him complain about any of it. 

I can tell you with complete certainty that would not be the case if I were the one with diabetes.

I asked Matt if I could write about his cold tonight and he said, "Why don't you write about how I dream of being a farmer in Texas?"

"Because that's not really that funny," I said.

"Well my cold is certainly NOT funny," he said.

His symptoms started last week and after a few days of debating whether or not it was allergies, he self-diagnosed himself with a "chilly," which is apparently not quite as bad as a cold.  By mid-week it was a full-fledged cold and by Friday it had progressed another level, to a frozen.  

Yesterday I tried to keep my eyes from rolling all the way back into my head when he mentioned labored breathing, and today he ran into some unexpected trouble when he took the elevator to his office on the 56th floor and the sudden change in altitude wreaked havoc on the pressure in his head.

The elevator ear pressure put him in a funk and he started in with a little Monday morning airing of grievances session.

May I add a number 18 to the list?

Matt got to this truck in the parking lot after work and found this.  He parks in the train station parking lot on rainy mornings and doesn't pay the $1.00 fee because he doesn't think he should have to pay to park after he already spends $174 a month for a train pass.  Fair enough argument except for the fact that RULES ARE RULES AND SOME RULES ARE ACTUALLY LAWS.

So, tonight I'm basically harboring a fugitive.

I am just waiting for the police to knock at the door.

Except, when they find out he has a cold they may change their mind about taking him into custody.

It's supposed to storm all week, so tomorrow morning I think he needs to take $1.00 with him to the train station.  

And some DayQuil.