OK, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but after two hours of tossing and turning and nothing working, not the Tylenol PMs, not the rewinding mental exercise, not an attempt at meditation, not a snack, well, I just wish I could sleep.

At least my wakefulness isn’t due to Nick’s blood sugar being off. We’ve had some scares recently. Last week something went wrong with either his pump or his infusion set, which triggered a fast rise in his glucose level — it shot up to 457 from 300 (already too high) in less than an hour. We had to disengage the pump and switch to injections to bring it down. Hours of checking, waiting, checking again.

That routine repeated yesterday evening, only in the other direction — he’d dropped down to 38 after his baseball game. (“Target” range is somewhere between 70-120.) Doses of sugar and juice brought him up, but again, an ordeal of lancing his fingers, providing more to eat and drink, bringing forth another drop of blood, anxiously watching the glucometer screen until a “good” number popped up.

Thanks to modern technology and access to health care, diabetes is totally manageable. Until it isn’t. I often read about athletes, pilots, actors and other prominent figures who excel at their profession despite their Type 1 diabetes. Thus inspired, I can show Nick that having diabetes doesn’t prohibit a person from pursuing their dreams, living a “normal” life. Episodes like these recent ones shake the faith, however — a reminder that even when one does everything “right,” things can see-saw out of control. Which of course is parenting, and life, in the proverbial nutshell.