Overly optimistic

This is what naive, blind optimism looks like -- a lonely cell phone charger that connects to nothing.

It did connect to something at first -- the phone I purchased with it.

The phone was another tool in Mark's dia betes toolkit. He went to a birthday party on Sunday, the kind where you drop your kid off, and tell them to have a good time. For kids without dia betes, that's all there is to it. You warn them to be on their best behavior, to thank the host, to listen to the parent in charge, and then you leave.

For a kid with dia betes, you tell them all that, and then flood them with all this:

• Do you have your meter? Show me.
• Do you have glucose tabs? Show me.
• Do you have a granola bar? Don't eat it unless you go low!
• How many carbs are in a piece of pizza? In two pieces of pizza? (A small slice? A big slice?) In a piece of cake? In a chip? In a cup of diet soda? In a cup of regular soda in case there's no diet soda?
• How do you feel right now?
• Do you feel low? What should you do if you feel low at the party? (Tell Damian's mom or the snack bar you need a regular soda NOW!)
• Do you need to test? Go test right now. In fact, test right now and eat this granola bar.
• Wash your hands before you test, IT DOES TOO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!
  
• I don't care if you're not hungry, EAT THE GRANOLA BAR IF YOU WANT TO GO TO THE PARTY!
• Have a good time!

As you can imagine, that's a lot to put on a little kid. Or on to the parent who's hosting the party, and just found out there's some kid with special needs threatening to ruin her child's birthday celebration.

"Hi Gina, good to see you! Thanks for inviting Mark. Not sure if you remember, he has Type 1 dia betes..." And then, when you see the panic in her eyes, quickly adding, "No, you don't have to do anything special for him! If he acts weird, give him some soda right away; otherwise, he knows what to do, has a phone and can call me with any questions."

Which leads us back to...the phone. Or what was, for a brief moment in time, Mark's cell phone. The phone he took to the party, because I just felt better leaving him with some sort of lifeline.

I almost gave him my phone, but thought better of it. Instead, I bought him a single-use phone. I activated the phone, loaded up the minutes, and handed it to Mark with strict orders not to take it out of his pocket.

"Can I call you about anything?" he asked.

"Yes, that's what it's for. If you have any questions."

"Can I call to say you're crazy?"

I stared him down. "Do you want to go to this party?" I finally asked.

He nodded his head.

"Then don't call me to say that."

He agreed, and ran off to race go-karts.

The first words out of his mouth when he got home were, "Did you register my phone? Because somehow (I don't know how!), my phone fell out of my pocket (I didn't take it out!) and disappeared (it got lost on it's own!). I did NOT take it out of my pocket -- I didn't even open my pocket!"

That was the point I realized perhaps he's not ready for any more responsibility. And I thanked God I did not give him my phone.

"Go get your birthday money," I told him. "You owe me $25 for that phone."

But it wasn't a total loss. At least I still have that nice new charger -- and it even fits my phone!

Update: Mark climbed into the car last night and yelled, "Hey, I found the phone!" It never even left the car.

But I'm still holding his $25 as collateral, because I know he will lose it next time I give it to him!