The day before Charlie was to begin playing ice hockey for the first time, we went to the rink to break in his new skates and get a little practice in.

As it is with just about everything we do, decisions need to be made regarding Charlie's diabetes. Do we adjust basals? Maybe. Does he skate with pump on or pump off? What do we do with his testing supplies? I didn't want to hold the bag while skating the whole time yet I couldn't leave it behind in a locker. I ended up stuffing my coat pockets with alcohol wipes, peanut butter crackers, a juice box, test strips, a pricker and the meter. With a camera, cell phone and keys also in my pockets, it's a wonder I was able to move at all.

This would be different than soccer or T-ball, I thought, getting my footing on the ice and breathing in the cold air. I won't be able to just run out there to test his blood sugar like I have in the past with sports played on grass.

The bleachers where the parents would watch looked as high as a mountain peak. He would never hear me out there. There could be no "Charlie, how's your blood sugar?" I would need to buy a bullhorn. There seemed to be many obstacles that would separate me from Charlie. The glass along the boards looked tall and unbreakable. Above the glass was black netting which would entangle me if I was to pole vault over the glass to Charlie's rescue. The space between the rink and the bleachers may as well have been a lake of fire and the cute little kids whizzing past me in full hockey gear were the devil's minions. The whole thing intimidated me greatly.

You know those credit report commercials in which people's credit scores hover over their heads in light-blue holograms? I think I'd like that for Charlie's blood sugar. Is that technology available yet?

That could come in handy right about now.