After dinner, I usually wait until right before bedtime to check Benny's blood sugar . But around 7pm last night, he said he was really thirsty. With a BG of 458 I could see why! That's way too high and not a number we see very often.

I started to give a bolus (deliver insulin), but the remote meter kept telling me it couldn't find the pump. "Oh yeah," Benny says. "That's because I don't have it on!" I'd changed the cartridge right before dinner – did I forget to put the pump back on him? Where was it?

I jumped up and went to the kitchen while Benny looked around the family room. No pump anywhere. I had no doubt I'd lost my mind and misplaced the pump, something I have never, ever done before (although I did once try to bolus my purse).

I blame January. I haven't shared this, but last year, Benny started getting migraines. We thought we had it under control after eliminating aspartame in the fall, but there have been 3 this month. Slade had rotator cuff surgery Jan 3rd, so my right-handed, very helpful husband is now a lefty who can barely lift a fork. I've also had some big deal changes at work. Losing an insulin pump just seemed like another thing to deal with before January would let us go.

After searching for a few more frantic minutes, Benny and I decided to retrace our steps. He remembered putting the pump on during dinner then taking a walk with his dad and then playing with our neighbors across the street. "Mom!!" he shouted. "I remember! I took it off to play tackle football. But I didn't get tackled. I know where it is!"

Across the street in the dark we go. We find it right in Mr & Mrs. J's yard, exactly where he left it. Benny and I had a good talk on the short walk home about better places to leave an expensive, life- saving medical device, and whether it really needed to come off for front yard football at all.

Then Benny said, "I was really worried about losing it."

I told him, "Dude, I want you to be responsible, but we will always find or replace your pump."

"But, Mom, I know it's really expensive."

(Pause here for my heart to break. Why does my 7 year old need to worry or even know about this?)

I said, "When it comes to diabetes, we will always, always, find a way to make it work. You don't have to worry."

Benny, "Ok!" He looked over and smiled at me, then sweetly said, "I really have to pee."

Well, he was 458. At least he made it to our yard.

Take that, January!