Or …

How to put the smack-down on a wannabe rock star

As predicted in my previous post, Susanne did in fact return to our table at the Trash Can Sinatra show, shaking her head at the blood sugar her brother had just given her on her cell phone.

Making the call, through, wasn't so easy. Having difficulty getting a signal, Susanne walked toward the restrooms behind the small stage and found herself in a narrow foyer of sorts leading to a small backstage room.

"Hey!" a skinny rocker type shouted.

"You can't be in here!"

Oh no he didn't!

"I have a child with diabetes at home," she barked back.

  (READ MORE)

Tonight we're meeting friends for dinner and a show at the Tin Angel in Philadelphia. Fantastic place to see live music if you ever have the opportunity. We're seeing a band called the Trashcan Sinatras, which you may have heard of if a.) You listened to alternative/college radio in the early 90s or b.) You're from Scotland. A great band.

I do hope we make it there. We can certainly use it. These rare night outs have a tendency to fall apart at the eleventh hour for one reason or another unfortunately. Charlie's recent trend of unexplained high blood sugars has us wondering if a virus is lurking within him, only to be revealed as we're walking out the door with keys in hand.

Susanne has changed his infusion site two times in the last two days to see if that was the source of the highs. Alas, no. The highs are coming no matter what.

We're both pretty frustrated. (READ MORE)