Yes, you heard me right, I once fell asleep under my car. How, is the question that popped into your mind. Why would someone fall asleep under a car? Can someone fit under a car? What were you doing under a car? Calm down your mind and let it not be aflame with racing thoughts. I work on cars (not professionally), and have for many years. To tell you the truth, I have done so since I could walk. My dad was a mechanic. I learned a lot watching him, helping him (getting in his way and annoying him). I dreamed of owning my a hot rod, shinny, loud and fast. I built model car after model car, dreaming of the day it would arrive on a magic car carrier.
Once I got older I found out I would have to work for money to buy one. So I did, and I started early, working on farms at 13 years old, then getting a job at a grocery store at 16. I saved and saved and the day came to buy my new ride. My first car was a Firebird, it was cool, shinny but not as fast as I wanted. So I sold it a year and a half later and bought my Dodge. It was very fast. But it need a lot of work, a lot, and all the time. The car had been sitting for a number of years, so many things just did not work. Breaks were the big pain, rot and rust had over taken the entire break system. The transmission also seemed vexing.
I really can’t remember what enticed me to work on the transmission one night, but there I was, under the car. I had it on blocks, under all four sides, suspended so I could move around on my creeper. It must have been after midnight in the garage. It was almost like my dads Studebaker was telling me to go to bed, it shared the same garage. I had worked a way for a few hours. I was getting fatigued so I shut my eyes, just for a rest, but as soon as I closed my eyes, I drifted to sleep. I woke up about a half hour later, somewhat disoreneted and confused. “Where am I”, I ask my self, oh duhh, your under your Dodge. Time for bed I thought, so I quickly went in side, showed and crawled into my bed.
I manage to get my Dodge on the road, fast it was, much tire smoke I made. Looking back, I wish I still had the car, more tire smoke I would make. But I wonder what life would have been like if I had Type 1 Diabetes like my girls do. I’m sure my mom would have had my dad out in the garage keeping and eye on me. If she found me asleep on a creeper under my car, I’m sure sheer panic would have set in, thinking I passed out from a low. I may have never gotten that car on the road without those late night sessions.
From time to time I will hear an old Mopar (that’s what they call old Chrysler’s) and yurn for my old Dart (link is not my old car but looks just like it). That black rumbling car with a white bumble bee strip that shook windows and turned heads. I don’t have the passion anymore for old cars like I use too. I would like to have the car back, but I might be inclined to have someone else work on it. My passion lies in helping families with a newly diagnosed child with Type 1 diabetes, taking care of my 2 girls with Type 1 and being an advocate for a cure. The key word is passion, it’s not an interest and it’s not an hobby. It’s real life, real pain, and a real need. I’ve put a link where people can email if they want to talk. I want to be available if there is someone in need. If for some reason you stumbled on this blog because you have a newly diagnosed child please email me. I may not be the person you can related to, but I will find someone who will listen, someone who will help in your time of need. There are many bloggers who write about diabetes, so many resources, we will help you with what you need. I will be taking other steps to help newly diagnosed families, coming up with new ideas, but that is for another blog post when I can report what I’m doing.
Bleedingfinger Blog, type 1 diabetes and all that transpired... 