Story cont.

He startles awake to my amazement, and reaches up and puts the truck in park. I sigh and take a deep breath, not noticing that I had been holding it. I glance and see my sister stop her car as well, getting out to meet up with me. I walk around the back of the moving truck and together we go and talk to my dad.

We open the door and he looks at us, his eyes slightly blank. “Dad! What happened? You fell asleep behind the wheel!” my sister cries. We stare at him expectantly while he looks around, as if lost.

“Huh?” is his simple reply, the blank look in his eyes still there. My sister and I look at each other, worried.

“You were asleep behind the wheel! Did you pass out? You almost went off the road!” my sister explains to him emphatically, while I stand by, fear freezing my heart.

“Wha’?” He is still confused, and then a crazy grin comes across the face. “Sleep?” he asks in a child-like voice, his hands and arms beginning to shake as he falls over towards the passenger side of the car.

“Dad!” we cry out together, and cram together to see what is wrong. Soon we see his shoulders quivering and we can tell he is laughing--at us. “Dad, that’s not funny!” my sister yells at him, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him out. “Is your blood sugar low?” she asks, sure of the reason behind this problem. He stares at her, his mind far away. “Get out and get in my car,” she dictates to him, pulling him upright and somehow managing to maneuver him out of the truck’s cab.

I look at her, knowing fear is plainly seen on my face. She turns to me as somehow my dad manages to get to the passenger side of my sister’s car. “Let’s get to the next exit and get off. See if you can get him to check his blood sugar,” she says to me, determination in her voice as she hands me his glucometer. Big sisters are amazing. I nod and turn back to her tiny little red car, my dad squished into the front seat.

I take a deep breath and get in, scared. I buckle up and prepare to get on the barren highway while my sister drives the large yellow moving truck for the very first time. I look at my dad and he is drooping in the chair, eyes open but mind closed. I grab his black case holding his glucometer, his so called “black thing” as we named it years ago.

“Dad, I need you to check your blood sugar,” I explain while I watch the road in front of me, nervous when I see the next exit isn’t for a few miles. He lifts his head and just kind of looks at me, as if he doesn’t even know who I am. “Please dad,” I beg.

“Why? What’s going on? I don't even know what is going on. No," he rambles, his voice not what I know and his eyes still in some far away place.

"Come on, dad, just take your blood sugar for me," I plead with him some more, not sure what is going to happen. Again he resists me, so I beg some more. "Come on, dad, just give me your finger," I say as I open up his black thing, having checked his blood sugar for years and thankfully knowing how to do it.

"I don't know what's happening..." he repeats again and again, and I fight the tears waiting in my eyes. I think and think, not sure how to get him to do this for me.

"Well, will you take some glucose tabs at least?" I pull out the jar of sugar tablets, knowing they will get his blood sugar up better than anything. I open it while fighting with the wheel and pour two into my waiting hand, holding them out to him.

He is fuming with anger by now, not sure why I am putting him through so much. He truly isn't in the car with me, even though his physical shell is there. "Why? No. I don't know what's going on. Leave me alone. No. Why?" he sounds confused and angry, and I'm glad to see the exit is in two miles. I bother him some more, pleading. He refuses, getting louder as he gets angrier. "Fine! I'll take them. Give me. Just to make you happy," he finally yells, almost like a child giving into taking gross tasting cold medicine.

I sigh and give him the glucose tabs, still not sure how to get him to check his blood sugar for me. "Dad, mom wants you to check your blood sugar, will you check it for her?" I coax around the subject, trying to keep the fear from my voice, thinking maybe he would do it for my mom--the love of his life.

"I took the tabs, aren't you happy yet?!" he rebukes, his eyes and voice still alien to me.

I give up and grab my phone, doing the only thing I can think of; I call my mom, hoping she can convince him to check her blood sugar. I dial her speed dial and count the rings, not sure why my early waking mom isn't answering. Thirty seconds later and I hear her voicemail, terror seizing me. I try again, but the same thing. I wrack my brain and hit another speed dial, calling his sister who he is close to. Riinng riinng riinng. "Hi, I don't have my phone on me right now..."

I hang up, wondering why all my early bird family aren't answering. I open up my contacts with one eye on the road, hitting the "G" key on my tiny keyboard. I call my grandma, my last chance who could get him to check his blood sugar. All the while I am pleading with him as he stares around and refuses. Voice mail. Again.