Camp Hamwi

      “Your pee is a little too sweet, so we need to salt you down,” my pediatrician told me as a joke about how I have type 1 diabetes. I laughed a little bit too, but I wasn’t too concerned about the joke, so I thought it was a funny joke. She spoke to my mom about going to the children’s hospital and having them do tests on me, as they had already called about us coming there. The drive to the hospital was a blur, but I do remember getting there. There was a long line to check in and we had waited there for at least an hour, but once we checked in, they took me into the back to do tests. My mom and I ended up in a tiny room that looked like a surgery waiting room, with a semi-working tv, and more tests to be done. All I remember doing is just sitting there and being scared of the IV going into my arm and straight up asking the nurse if, after all of this, I would be able to go to school tomorrow. The nurse responded, “no, you’re going to have to stay at the hospital for a few days.” I guess it didn’t hit me until the nurse said that this was serious.

    Once they were done testing me, a nurse transported me to a room I would stay in for the rest of my time there. My time staying at the hospital was a bit of a blur too. All it consisted of was learning how to count carbs, how to take insulin and which places I can take it, why my pancreas isn’t working, and everything that involves diabetes. I remember I was scared of the needles used, but after a few times of doing it myself, it wasn’t so bad. It was raining when I got discharged and it felt good to get out of the hospital, but now it was even scarier having to figure out all of this by myself, especially with my mom trying to help me. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least. 

The first time I had heard of Camp Hamwi was from the same pediatrician that helped me and my mom figure out I had diabetes. I was about almost two months into living with diabetes and it was at? a yearly check-up. When she spoke about it, I was intrigued because I had never spent the night at camp before. I mean, I went to a day camp, so to me, this was something new that I wanted to do for a long time. My mom worked to arrange for me to go to that camp and all I did was try to get everything that I needed for camp, with the help of my grandma. The day had arrived when I would leave for camp. I was excited to see how I would do at a sleep-away camp. I remember the morning air feeling cool in the morning, but still felt like summer. She dropped me off at a ‘station-infused’ clinic and they had to check everyone’s blood sugars and medical health before going to the campsite. Then before I knew it, I was saying goodbye to my mom, got into a van that was all girls, and we were on our way to camp Hamwi. As I was getting into the van, I felt this feeling in my stomach that was a mix of anticipation and nervousness into one. It was exciting for me. 

It was an hour and a half ride to the camp, but to me, it felt like more than three hours. When we finally arrived, I was excited but confused about what I’m supposed to be doing. I got my bags from the back of the van and wait until my name is called to go to which cabin. “Marra Thompson, G5,” a counselor had called and pointed to the direction of where the cabin was. I grab my stuff and head down a hill-like sidewalk and go all the way to cabin five. I get to the cabin and see one person sitting there. She greets me with her name Jordan and tells me that she will be one of my counselors for the week. I nod my head and try to get a look around the cabin while setting up a place to sleep. The cabin was wooden with a dirty and hard concrete floor. There were about five bunk beds with ‘disposable’ mattresses to sleep on and there were also cubbies for people to keep their luggage in. If you took a cunning look at the room, you would either think it’s claustrophobic or cozy with how small it looked because of all the bunk beds with the cubbies and one small table to keep diabetes stuff on it. After putting my stuff away, I kinda chilled in the cabin until I met all the girls that would be staying in the cabin, and then we all walked over to the amphitheater for a welcome. When I met each of the campers, I felt scared and nervous at the same time because I felt like I wouldn’t be able to connect with them or they might think that I am weird or too quiet. I felt weird because I didn’t know what I was doing. 

The welcome consisted of greetings of the directors, meeting the main counselors, and the counselor in training. This was when I met Nancy, my other counselor. After the welcome, we all went to the mess hall for dinner time. Most campers had to stay off the porch, except for the campers who were checking blood sugar and taking insulin. While waiting, I spoke to the other girls from my cabin that were returning, mostly me listening, and it was a whole bunch of nonsense like what happened when they were there last year. When it was my turn, I sat on the bench and looked at their different needles. I was so scared of the longer ones by just a little bit, but after I had used them, it wasn't as terrible as I thought it was. As I go into the mess hall, it was as noisy as you would expect from a bunch of kids. I went through the lunch line and sat down where some of the girls were sitting at. Throughout the conversations, I look out at the window and see the sky changing colors from blue to orange, which indicated to me that the sun was setting. It was beautiful. After dinner, everyone went to either shower and did the nightly prep like brushing teeth and washing their faces, but also checking blood sugars and eating something if they were low, meaning their blood sugar drops below a normal range and they must get it back up, before bed. I was going to do them in the morning, so I just went to the cabin and started reading my summer book for school. Lights out were at 11:30, but our counselors let us stay up for 15 more minutes. Most of us just read what we brought. 

“Alright everyone, it’s time to get up!” said one of the counselors. I woke up groggily and slowly, but surely, to get out of bed. I grab some stuff to get ready for the day. Then I waited for everyone else to get done and headed to the mess hall for breakfast. Standing outside during the morning was worse than other times of the day because it was primarily chilly. After breakfast, they had sign-up sheets on some tables with activities for us to do during the week. I remember signing up for horseback riding, kickball, frisbee, canoeing, arts and crafts, and swimming. I was excited to go horseback riding and canoeing the most, even though I couldn’t swim and was afraid someone might try to purposely tip over the boat. The rest of the day consisted of ‘classes’ that were mostly just some facts about diabetes, lunch, dinner, and getting ready for bed. It was boring. On Tuesday, I went horseback riding. On Wednesday, I played frisbee and kickball, but couldn’t go canoeing because it had rained that night. I was bummed that I wouldn’t go canoeing, but I wasn’t disappointed that it didn’t happen. On Thursday, I went swimming and did arts and crafts. On Friday, We had a camp dance, watched a slideshow that consisted of the whole week, and went to a make-shift bonfire that introduced new Counselors in training. I remember hearing the girls from my cabin crying about leaving the camp and practically having to wait for an entire year for this one week to happen again, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything really, except for the fact that I did enjoy camp that summer. 

I went back again two years after that first time and it was the same feeling as going there the first time, with anticipation and excitement, but instead, I knew what I was doing. I didn’t realize this until now, but I did learn how to be more decisive with my diabetes and just know in my gut and with some sort of experience, what I can do to keep myself alive and I also learned that you could have normal experiences with being a diabetic. It also really shaped me into thinking that I can still be like any other kid, but have extra steps to take care of myself. I didn’t think about it beforehand, but camp did help me with not having to worry that this illness was going to be severe to where I felt like I may never be able to eat anything or do things that I liked. I was wrong about diabetes. I could still paint or eat my pizza and candy, but with more ‘caution to the wind’ type of being careful.

Write Back 2 (Part 1)

    Some themes that I could write about are about the time when I found out I had type 1 diabetes, or when I went to diabetes camp the next summer. I could write about when I finally met my father for the first time and met the rest of his family. I could also write about when he passed away months after I met him. I think I'll choose to write about my time at a summer camp for kids with diabetes. It was a fun time there and it has some elements of art in the story, so I can figure out what to write about. The people involved with this story are campmates, camp counselors, my mom, and myself. Some artifacts that could be considered in the story are a Queen's song Bohemian Rhapsody, and a keychain type of weave chain that I made in art. There are probably more elements of art included here, but I can't really remember much. I also went back again to the same camp last year and it still has some elements of art to it, so I can include it into the story. I did paint a flowerpot at camp, and it mostly looks like a child made it for their parents and I used it as a pencil holder. I would like to talk about how I was diagnosed with diabetes and my time staying at the hospital. I painted a little bit during my stay there, so that could be something. I might mention some people in my story, and I think those are the people working in the hospital. I don't really remember all of their names, but I know some of them made a difference for me. I don't really know how this story will go through.