It's kind of strange. I remember that I had such high hopes for my intro. Man, I was going to post in it almost daily so I could get my thoughts down. Document my struggles. Celebrate my wins. That kind of thing. A daily diary of my quit journey.
That didn't happen...
Here I am again though. I do still try to put the big ones in here...
**************************************************
What a crappy week. Many of you know that I lost my grandfather at the end of last week. That man is the single largest influence on my life, the most intelligent person I've ever met, and someone I've always known I can count on unfailingly. He was awake and completely normal on Monday, and never woke up after he fell asleep. He died two days later, in his sleep, with my grandmother holding his hand and surrounded by family.
He was 102 though. It wasn't a great shock. Over the course of the last 19 years since my son was born I have treated every holiday like it could potentially be their last and made sure to spend it with them. While my mom was living in Israel (the last seven years or so, until recently), I hauled my laptop to them every other weekend so they could Skype with my mom and visit with my son and I. My grandfather lived a very long, very full life and I'm at peace with his passing.
My grandmother is struggling, obviously. They would have been married 73 years the first week of November. She has dementia and Alzheimer's which makes it INCREDIBLY difficult on her as well as the rest of us. She forgets he died. She remembers he died. She wakes up and doesn't know where he is. She wakes up and remembers that she's alone. She's outlived everyone on her side of the family by a good 6-8 years because she needed to take care of her husband. Her work is complete. I expect that her remaining time with us will be short.
Which brings us to yesterday. Sitting at work. Minding my own business. Probably on KTC, I always seem to be on KTC, when my mom calls. She was on her way to see my grandmother and has a flat. I asked about roadside, she said she didn't have it. My son was getting ready to leave (we work together a couple days a week) so I asked him if he'd swing by and change it. No problem he said, and off he went... About 45 minutes later I headed toward home and called to see how things were going. He was struggling with the tire. FUCK! Now I have to head over, and it's a good 30-40 minutes in the other direction...
This is probably a good time to mention that I fucked my back up a few weeks ago (the week before the AZ meat-up). I'd mostly recovered, but keep tweaking it over the last couple weeks and just can't shake it (which is weird, because it's not like I have any stress in my life or anything)... So, now my throbbing achy lower back get to change a tire...
I get there and my kid is sitting there. He's got her car up in the air. He's got all five lug nuts off. No dice. Bullshit. C'mon kid. It's a freaking tire. Pull it off.
Nope.
I'm old AF. I've NEVER met a tire I couldn't change. I did it for a living at the end of HS and beginning of college. I used to make more money street racing than I did at work, and I built all my own shit. Would. Not. Fucking. Budge. Now, I've come across some rims that were stuck to hubs before, but never like this. I beat that sucker from the inside with a rubber hammer. I literally sat on the ground and alternated kicking the tire on either side to break it loose. No dice. Now my back is hurting so much that I'm pretty close to the point of involuntary tears, and if I try to hit this thing any harder I'm going to knock it off the jack.
So, I put it all back together. Lower it to the ground. Back all the lug nuts off a couple turns, and have her drive it back and forth 30-40 feet a couple times. Surely that'll break it free, right? The weight of the car HAS to be enough to break it free.
Nope.
Have I mentioned yet that I hadn't eaten since breakfast and that I'm a complete ASS when I'm hungry? Well, now it's getting dark and late and I'm no closer to having it taken care of.
And then mom says "Hey, I actually DO have roadside. Should I call them?"
It took everything I had at this point to not lose my shit.
So, she called roadside assistance. She explained that she had a flat, that we were unable to break it loose even though we'd been able to get all the lug nuts off, we didn't think they'd be able to change it, and that she needed a tow truck. They gave us an ETA of 45 minutes...
An hour and a half later, some kid pulls up in a pickup. Not a tow truck. A pickup. He's a tiny little thing (so, normal sized to you) and I just laugh. There's no WAY you're going to get that tire off kid. Where's the tow truck? No tow truck he says, I'm here to change the tire.
After a few minutes of dicking around he comes to the same conclusion. That tire is NOT coming off. We'll have to call insurance back and get ANOTHER person to come out. As some of you may have noticed, I'm not very patient sometimes. At this point I'm tired, I'm hungry, I've got to piss so bad I can feel it in my teeth, I've been fighting with this fucking tire for the last three or more hours and the 12 year old kid that came out tells me we need to call them back.
That didn't go well. He was not very happy when he left. I'm pretty sure he'll talk about me when they ask him why he went back to school to do something less physical with his life. I don't think he cried, but I bet he was close...
Now it's dark. On the side of the road. Three of us have tried and failed to CHANGE THIS FUCKING TIRE. My mom gets BACK on the phone with her insurance. Explains it, again. Another 45-50 minutes... FML
My mom and Patty decide that they're going to run over to my grandmothers to pick up the DVD she was on her way to get in the first place. I'm pretty sure part of it was to find a safe quiet place away from me...
After they took off - BAM!!! The biggest fucking crave I've had in a long time. Not just a crave, I heard "just one. No one has to know. You'll feel so much better". On top of that, my mouth started watering HARD in anticipation. Scared the shit out of me. I texted Broc right away:
Me - "I'm not going to so you don't have to call (and I can't answer) but I want a dip so bad my mouth is watering... Fuck"
Broc - "I will weld a spike onto my steel toe and fly my ass to az to visit you"
Me - "You'll have to check them. I'm not gonna. Just struggling right now"
Broc - "I'll drive then"
Quick. To the point.
The 2nd tow truck finally showed up an hour later. He didn't even TRY to change it once I explained what was wrong. They got it up on the flatbed and on it's way to her mechanic, and I drove my mom home 45-50 minutes the OTHER direction.
This started at 3:30 or so. I finally got home at 9:30. I lost to a fucking tire, but not to that bitch.