"Go get it!" I said to Susanne, pointing to Charlie’s medical chart that was placed outside the exam room by one of the nurses.

Over time we have learned that the chart gets placed in the slot as we are taken to the room and then approximately six minutes later, a nurse returns with a post-it note with Charlie’s A1c written on it, and tucks it into the thick folder.

"Go get it!" I nudged her forward.

"No. I’m scared," she said with a nervous smile.

"Fine, I’ll do it!" I said, marching to the doorway and looking both ways to see if the coast was clear.

I snagged the folder, dashed back into the room, opened and then closed it quickly and put it back.

The nurse practitioner walked into the room just as we were giving each other high-fives, making for a slightly embarrassing moment.

Remember this post? When I said I wouldn’t be happy with this A1c result even if it was the lowest one ever?

Well, I lied. We’re thrilled with the 7.5 – an all-time low.

The doctor and the nurse practitioner heard our concerns about Charlie. While I was taking Charlie to the bathroom for the fourth time, Susanne told them that we worry about the psychological effect diabetes is having on Charlie.

"We don’t normally say this," the doctor said, "but I think you should cut back on the testing. Usually, we’re telling parents the opposite - they need to test more than three times a day."

She said we should eliminate some of the blood sugar checks and we all agreed that there’s no real need for the health aide to escort Charlie out of the school every day, holding his diabetes bag. He walks in alone, he can walk out alone.

"You’re doing a great job," she told us.

"But back off!"

Ouch.

The words were sharp, yes, but we knew it was valid in some respects. Maybe we could stand to back off a bit, hard as that may be.

As we were making our next appointment at the front desk, it was clear that the words were still with Susanne. After handing over our paperwork, she turned to me, her eyes glassy and red.

"I guess by trying to do too much, you can do more damage."

Hey, no tears! This is a time to celebrate. Let us bask in the temporary glory of a 7.5! Though, these things are unpredictable. Let's not get a big head.

Woops. Too late.