kanocorn

When Susanne peels Charlie's pants down to show me the blood-filled pump tubing taped to his bottom, we curse quietly behind his back. Having the pump infusion set on his rump – he's unable to see how gruesome it is. It's just out of his periphery. A blessing at this moment. Acting like it's nothing is the hard part. Neither of us are good actors. Susanne bites her upper lip and points to where the bloody trail begins and ends.

Well this would explain the blood sugar of "HI."

I should back up a bit. (READ MORE)

One ice cream in a Mickey Mouse bowl for Ben.

One ice cream in a pink bowl for Maeve.

And one ice cream for ...

"Whoa! I’m definitely not having any," Charlie said, staring down at the number on his meter.

He showed me the 480 regrettably - like it was an F on a math test.

I peeled down his sweat pants and saw loops of bloody tubing. Charlie didn’t scream at the sight of it. Instead, he ran over to show Maeve, who was chipping away at her vanilla fudge ripple.

"Ew!" she said.

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"This is the most sick I’ve ever felt," Charlie said last night, hugging the "puke bucket" so tightly you would have thought it was keeping him afloat.

He looked miserable, wanting so badly to just throw up and get the awful feeling out of his stomach. Get it over with. These are some of the most difficult times of being a parent of a child with diabetes.

  (READ MORE)