Sometimes I wonder what Ben really thinks about when he sees us testing his big brother’s blood sugar or putting Charlie over our laps for torturous site changes. What's going on in that large, shaggy head? Behind those big brown eyes, I wonder?

Just to see what he'd say, I have asked Ben why we have the testing supplies. "What is this?" I ask. "What’s it for?"

"That’s for Chow Wei," he responds, mispronouncing his brother’s name in a Chinese dialect.

I guess at his age he can’t exactly comprehend what’s going on. He just knows that it’s something we do to or for Charlie. He also knows that food usually follows, so he falls in line behind Charlie while we prick his finger.

"Snack Pweeeeeeeeeeeeese."

Soon he may ask why we do the things we do. Soon he may ask if it can happen to him. I won't be prepared when he does.

But diabetes affects the whole family and Ben plays his part. When I am up in the attic and the kids are on the first floor, Charlie will dispatch Ben like he's a carrier pigeon.

"Dad! Chow Wei finks he's woe."

During site changes, Ben pets Charlie’s head, trying to comfort him as Charlie clenches his teeth and screams upon needle impact. He's even applied an ice cube to Charlie's sore tush when requested. Ben is first to respond when Susanne says, "Quick! Someone grab me a tissue from the kitchen."

Sure, he might return with a thin slice of ham, but that’s not the point.