"If he has trouble breathing, bring him in immediately," the nurse practitioner said earlier today. Or was it yesterday? I’m so tired. I’m typing in the dark, watching Charlie sleep. Listening to his breathing. It’s 3:56 am.

I’m fully dressed in middle of the night emergency attire. Yankees baseball cap to cover bed head and big bags under my eyes. Wrinkled first-I-could-find shirt probably on backwards. I’m writing to stay awake. 30 minutes ago I carried Charlie’s burning body downstairs and got ready to take him to the ER. He was glassy-eyed with a very high fever and coughed a horribly painful cough when he tried to speak. We looked at each other nervously.

We were doing our rounds, Susanne and I, shooting grape-flavored Motrin into the mouths of our two other kids.

Three kids with the swine flu.

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Despite the fact that temperatures here in the Valley of the Sun (or as my brother likes to call it The Actual Sun) continue to hover around 100 degrees, it's technically fall, which means that flu season is upon us.

I don't think I ever got a flu shot prior to getting diabetes. I was healthy for the most part and likely didn't understand what the flu really is. And even four years into the disease, last fall was the first time I got the shot since being diagnosed.

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