We have Charlie's endocrinology appointment tomorrow. In his last two visits, we've seen a minor decline in his A1c. From 8.1 to 7.9 and then from 7.9 to 7.8. Unfortunately, I think the downward streak ends there. I'm anticipating an A1c back in the low to mid 8s.

Hopefully I'm wrong. When looking back at Charlie's blood sugar control over the last three months, the high times are the ones that stick in my brain and give me an unsettled feeling. Charlie had a two-week period of terribly high blood sugars. Although it was just two weeks, it feels as if it has tarnished the whole three-month period that the A1c will review. The two weeks of troublesome highs feels like an eternity. I want to hit a re-set button and just start over. Start over when things are better. When he's not having crazy growth-spurt highs or crazy virus highs or crazy full moon highs.

Maybe the recent couple weeks of lows will cancel out the period of highs and we'll come away with a decent number. It's a peculiar thing to hope for, I know. I understand how dangerous the lows are and I understand how dumb my logic is. I don't wish for lows. It's just …

Exhausting. All of it.

Some people say the A1c is not even an accurate measuring stick. Maybe the number is merely a placebo of sorts. I don't care. The number is all we have. I know I often complain that we are at the mercy of diabetes and its all-powerfulness, but there are things that we do. We intervene. We get up throughout the night to alter an otherwise unpleasant outcome. We put limits on foods that launch his blood sugar into orbit and foods that cause repeated blasts of insulin appear impotent. We sometimes make the right call.

It is not enough to simply know that Charlie looks healthy and is growing nicely. We need that number.

And if the number's not good tomorrow, we'll just do what we always do.

Deduct money from Charlie's weekly allowance.