Saturday, July 15, 2006

Archery Girl

I first saw you several years ago. You may not remember me from then, but I sat next to you in the health center. You were shivering and nauseas. You felt dizzy. You were withdrawing from Ritalin because your parents didn't bother making sure it came to camp with you. Luckily, the symptoms passed as the next 24 hours went by. And the symptoms didn't amount to anything severe.

When I saw you this year, you ran up to me and hugged me tight. You were so happy to see me even though I didn't know you well. You hug everyone though, and sadly, it shows just how craving of love you are. It's because you lack it at home. And I am sorry for that, because everyone deserves love.

I hate to admit it, but I was a little worried when I saw your name on the cabin list, and even more worried to see your lack of maturing over the past few years. You don't fit in, and it's obvious. And quite frankly, you are tiring.

But it looked like I avoided you when you didn't show up for any activities I taught.

Then Tuesday came. And the director asked to speak to me. Apparently you weren't doing well in craft classes. You were moved to archery. You did not want to be there. But you were. And you really didn't have much choice in the matter. Your acting up got you kicked out of the other class.

So I got you. And your lack of self confidence became increasingly evident as you refused to set down your stuffed animal and you apologized profusely for any wrong doing, even if it wasn't your fault.

You were scared to shoot a bow and arrow. She almost cried. You were afraid you would hurt someone, or me. But I told you if you obeyed the rules you would be fine. And you did. And you were.

When you first shot, your form was off. But we worked to fix it. Then you got it. Then you hit the target. You couldn't believe you could!

Then you got a score high enough to start working toward a level. And you did.

That day, you told me you loved archery. And you told me the director was right when she said I was a good teacher.

That week you got two levels completed. And you were proud. And my gosh, was I proud of you.

I saw confidence I never saw in you before. And that brought joy to me. You were more focused then you ever were before, succeeding at something you had previously feared.

So little effort on my part brought life into you. And you fit in. And you were Archery Girl.

Thank you Archery Girl, for blessing my week.

Ah, camp

I was in the health center at my very much so non-diabetes camp. There were two nurses there, and me. I was the health center aid, and loving it. One nurse was leaving for her week off, and I was helping to file the forms from that week. Nurse 2 was training for the week she was about to start.

Time for my fasting bs. 209. The humidity has brought my site problems that I thought were solved back into full few. I went through 6 sites in 2 days this week.

And then Nurse 2 made an ultimate no-no. "Somebody had too much food and not enough exercise yesterday."

What the heck?

I checked my site and dialed up a bolus.

Nurse 2: "Oh, you have a pump. I used to know someone who had diabetes that was very brittle."

Me: "I hate that word."

N2: "Anyways, her doctor told her she had to get a pump, but she didn't, so she had complications by the time she was 30. Eventually she stopped being so noncompliant and got a pump."

me: "Great *sarcasm*."

People irritate me. And I have spent this whole week fighting it. The night before:

Camper: "Megan, do you have low blood sugar?"

Me: "No, but I have diabetes."

Camper: *frightened look* "My great grandma died of diabetes."

Me: "And I am sure she was a lot older than I am, and I take good care of myself."

So that has been my week comment wise. But in good news, I have some new Cleo 90s to try out!