I Finally Felt Normal

When I say this or anybody says this the response is "Well you are already normal", whatever that may be to them. But its the only way to describe the feeling. That is the feeling of going to camp, for the first time and every year since.

In high school I had a falling out with one of my best friends. I was never sure what happened but it was truly a blessing in disguise. I became upset though instead of being depressed and not doing anything about it, I decided I needed to find new friends. Being from a small school your choices are limited. Then the idea hit me, I was going to go to diabetes camp. A new adventure.

It was recommended to me for year though I always had the excuse that I had soccer or softball or something else going on. But now I was finally ready to go. Went on the computer and googled camps around me. I found Camp Ho Mita Koda and that they had a teen weekend. Immediately I signed up.

My first diabetes camp weekend ever felt amazing. I felt normal. Other type 1 diabetics surrounded me and understood what I wad saying. They understood my frustrations. They understood what it meant when I said I was high or low. They understood me. I was elated. They had sessions to talk about things we may deal with. I learned a great deal from that first weekend.

The next year I became a counselor in training. Took a summer off due to school/college class. Then I switched camps.

It was hard to do but the feeling was the same. I was normal their. My second camp became my second family and home. Each year I can't wait to go back and see all my diabuddies and be a role model to all the kids.

Because of camp I decided to get on facebook. It was when it was new to the planet. I initially didn't think I really needed one. But now it's like my support group away from camp. I can stay in touch with my diabetic friends as well as make new connections and discover new things to do like the dTreat for young adults (you should go) or the Friends for Life conference in Orlando Florida(I want to go).

Sometimes I just wish there was a town just full of type 1's. It could be similar to camp. Juice box and checking stations at every corner. A field to play all the awesome camp games. A river or lake to go canoeing. Just a dream but it would be amazing.

Honestly it was probably my biggest regret growing up and not going to camp. But its the best recommendation that I give now. Even if it's not camp or camp isn't for you, find support in the type 1 community. Even if you're a parent, there is support for you too. Just google it. GO TO CAMP/FIND SUPPORT from people like you and make a diabestie like I did.

Keep your chin up and stay positive my friends.

It Became Second Nature

After I was released from the hospital my mother let me have the next day off from school. We went to Walmart with my sister and at that age, it was weird to learn the world keeps on moving even though you are stuck at school. After that it was back to school, back to life with a twist.

I don't remember much of what I thought in the first week or first year. Since I have had my ups and downs with the disease. At times wishing I didn't have it at all though always ending up being grateful for the person it made me.

Everybody always asks what age I was when I was diagnosed. I tell them 9 (which is not the youngest) and they feel bad. They shouldn't. At that age your life still really isn't yours, its still controlled by your parents for the most part. I still didn't know what my life was about and grew with my diagnosis. Regardless of the age when you are diagnosed, Type 1 eventually  becomes second nature. After awhile, you forget what it was like to not have it.

I essentially became a little adult. Out of all the other kids I had to be more responsible for myself. Had to be prepared with insulin, glucose meter and glucose where ever I went. I had to know how much insulin to give myself and when. Had to know how to inject myself with insulin. I had to know my body, was I feeling low or was I feeling high. All this and more went through my mind along with all the childish things like boybands, playing on the playground, and slumber parties.

Biggest thing I regret is not getting more support sooner, but more on that in another post.

Keep your chin up and stay positive my friends.

My Type 1 Beginning

It was the beginning of my fourth grade year. Waking up every night every 15 minutes to pee. Then I would be so thirsty I would want to drink something. My 9 year old self even went through the fact that if I kept drinking water, I would have to get up in 15 minutes and go pee again. The thirst won every time. It was excruciatingly unquenchable.

It was a Friday when my mother took me to the doctors. The only thing I wanted was an A&W rootbeer float. Driving into the parking lot she told me it could be a urinary tract infection or diabetes. I didn't know what diabetes was so I asked. My mother told me I would have to watch what I ate and count carbohydrates like for my morning snack. Diabetes at this point did not sound to shabby. Plus, a urinary tract infection sounded embarrassing to tell my friends back at school for why I missed a day.

I don't remember if they poked my finger or if I peed in a cup. The lady doctor came in and gave us the news. I had type 1 diabetes. My mother started bawling right away and the doctor comforted her. Not one for crying I waited for the doctor to leave the room then I started crying. Heck, I didn't even know what we were crying about. The doctor finally returned, said that the two childrens hospitals they called were full though one was willing to make room. The other option was to stay in our local hospital. My mother was still very devastated, it had barely been 15 minutes of time lapsed from the news. The doctor looked at me for a decision and I chose to stay in my hometown. Little did I know what childrens hospitals had to offer.

Instructions were given to go straight to the hospital and to not stop anywhere. It was almost like getting the dreaded card in the game of Monopoly stating "Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200$". We arrived and a nurse, looking very nervous, stood there with a wheelchair. She confirmed who I was and told me to get in the chair. I stated very matter of fact " I can walk". She then declined my generous offer to walk and rushed me up to the ICU.

About 5 nurses pounced on me. Turning on monitors, taking my vitals, and placed an IV all within 5 minutes it seemed. The tv was turned on and everything seemed to be ok. I spent one night in the ICU and one night on a regular medsurg floor. Then I was discharged.

That was the weekend when my life and my families life changed. That was the beginning and there is so much more to the story.

Needless to say, I never got that rootbeer float I wanted that day.