Jumper on the ledge

I can’t believe I just taxied right off the f.ing runway. One moment I’m headed for the terminal, the next moment we’re off in the grass, my landing gear is mired in the mud, and the plane is stuck fast. I shake my head. How did that happen? Did I pass out? Get distracted? Did the steering fail? F.! I advance the twin throttles. Both radial engines spool up with a throaty roar, the airframe vibrates, but we do not move. I throttle back before I shake the silver beauty to pieces. Then I advance just the left throttle. The left engine snarls to life, the plane shakes and groans, but again we do not move. I yank the throttle back to idle. Shit! I sit for a moment, exhale, collect my thoughts, then I key the mike and call the tower. Uh, november triple four six kilo, I, uh, have a little problem here…Sunlight filters in the window between the slats of the blinds and across my bed, waking me. Crap. I need to call the FAA this morning and explain to them how I taxied off the runway at an unauthorized spot yesterday and got stuck in the mud. Hell of a way to start the day.I swing my feet to the floor and my eyes fall on the glucometer on my nightstand. Oh. Wait. I’m not a commercial pilot anymore. It was a dream. Or… or… is the diabetes a dream? As cobwebs dance across my mind, I try to sort it all out. The gleaming plane stuck in the mud seems so real. The world of diabetes and illness seems like a fuzzy, distant dream… and yet… and yet I think what feels real is ...
Source: LifeAfterDx--The Guardian Chronicles - Category: Diabetes Authors: Source Type: blogs