Thoughts

There are times when I think that I'd really like to move to France, or even just to live there for an extended period.  I joked with a French friend that the next time she takes a long trip, I'll come, live in her house, take care of her cat.  And I probably would.  Even if I had to live by myself, I'd do it.

And then I have a low blood sugar crash like I did last night, and my wife was right there, helping me to deal with it - at one point, she tells me, I looked at a container of milk, and at an empty glass, with this clear expression of what am I supposed to do with this? - and I think - what if it happened again?  At night, as usual?  In a place where all the local sources of help speak only French?  Oui....je suis Americain. Je suis un diabétique. Je suis malade. And if I get spaced enough,  even that level of communication might be beyond me. 

I'd still go.... but perhaps I'd take precautions, too. As for right now -- as in so many other things, I'm damn glad that she was here.