Diabetes has had us back on our heels and off-balance since school started. Charlie has had very high blood sugars. In turn, we're doing a lot of guessing. Guessing is not a great strategy when dealing with a major disease. Such is life with diabetes.

It is during these times that diabetes likes to send a message. It likes to bring you down to size and remind you that you're not in control. Just as we were about to make changes to deal with the constant highs, the unexpected sound of panic lifts me from my chair.

"Carey! Juice box now!!! He's very low!!!"

I pop from my chair like a firefighter responding to an alarm and grab two juice boxes. I can hear Susanne's voice growing louder as I make my way upstairs.

"CHARLIE! CHARLIE! I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP!"

"CHARLIE!"

We work the straw into his mouth and he drains both juice boxes with eyes closed.

"You're doing good Charlie. A little bit more."

I wonder if our nightly interventions seep into his dreams; if he's a fighter pilot soaring through the clouds when suddenly he hears a choppy radio transmission through the static.

Pull up, Charlie!! You're too low!!! You're too low!!! Pull up!

Charlie feels a tap on his shoulder and turns his head behind the cockpit to see a giant soft-spoken smiling purple octopus.

He's right, Charlie. You are too low. Here. Have this juice box.

"Look at that," Susanne says, showing me a blood sugar of 33 on the meter screen.

I stare down at the number woefully like she's holding a dead baby bird.

And then we wait.