kanocorn

When Susanne peels Charlie's pants down to show me the blood-filled pump tubing taped to his bottom, we curse quietly behind his back. Having the pump infusion set on his rump – he's unable to see how gruesome it is. It's just out of his periphery. A blessing at this moment. Acting like it's nothing is the hard part. Neither of us are good actors. Susanne bites her upper lip and points to where the bloody trail begins and ends.

Well this would explain the blood sugar of "HI."

I should back up a bit.

Charlie went to a birthday party over the weekend at one of those kid gym places with trampolines, swinging cushion things, etc. Knowing the germy reputation these places have, Susanne lapped Purell all over Charlie's body like it was suntan lotion. Taking no chances, she then lined up five small glasses of the goopy stuff and had him do shots. I thought timing him was a little crass.

Charlie had the absolute time of his life at this party. He didn't know where to go first as he darted indecisively from station to station like a squirrel in the middle of the road. Charlie kind of likes the birthday girl (a cute little girl in pigtails) and I think she like him. I watched with a grin as they bumped into each other occasionally through the chaotic traffic of children and smiled. Or when she put her hands lightly on his back to support herself on the trampoline.

I do hope the mother knows Charlie has diabetes. If not, my call home to Susanne must have seemed extremely bizarre and just flat-out rude. She was standing right beside me as I described every last detail of the birthday cake like a crime scene detective. What's he going to tell her next, perhaps she thought. The balloon colors clash and the piñata's subpar?

I hate that sometimes having a great time must come with consequence. We figured that all of the flopping around on the floor at the gym caused Charlie's site to bleed - obstructing the insulin I had given him for the cake and causing his blood sugar to soar so high, there wasn't even a number for it. Just sucks.

The next day, when school ended, the girl with pigtails said goodbye to all the girls in the class with a big hug, as she does every day. This time she waited though, as if she had one more hug to give. Several kids past her by before she approached Charlie and put her arms around him.

Charlie stood still, unsure of what to do in such a situation and then walked over to Susanne.

"She loved it," Charlie said in matter-of-fact fashion, referring to the birthday present he had given her.