life and puppies

When we left Bear at sleepaway camp last week, I experienced the most emotional pain I’ve voluntarily subjected myself to. I’m on the fence about whether it was the most emotional pain I’ve felt because I’m nearly certain that her diagnosis was worse, but I felt like I was shouldering that pain with others so I think it felt somewhat more diluted than this current hardness. Either way, this has to be the worst gut punch of my choosing.

While I know Aaron was scared and trepidatious about this current journey, and I know he’s been here with me every step of the way, it feels like I’ve traveled this path more alone. I think that I’ve felt that way for a couple reasons.

First, because it was my idea to send her, and I pushed for it. I knew that Aaron could and would say to me, when I would express sadness or fear, “Well, this was your idea; I didn’t suggest it.” And would be right to say it. Overnight camp was my idea, and it’s kinda been my thing from forever. So, if this goes sideways, it’s on me. I will own that. (But ow.)

Second, holy omg I can’t even. T1D can be so lonely in itself. What the mother effing are we we thinking?! She’s T1D, 11 years old, and can’t change her sites or sensors alone. And this camp, while it said it could do it, CANNOT DO IT. They’ve made her so nervous that she doesn’t want to go back to the health center. She’s avoiding them! And I can’t get in touch with them directly—I have to keep leaving messages—and I don’t get calls back. And yes, everyone: I get it. It’s a big camp. Lots of campers. But I’m not talking about a kid with a splinter or a sprained ankle (super legitimate injuries, by the way). I’m asking for help for a kid with a chronic illness who needs help to live.

I just want everything for her.

I want her to see the world. And to be able to move safely in it.

I read an article recently in the NYT in which a woman described how she felt when she first saw her newborn, and I couldn’t feel that it was more apt to how I feel with my 11 yo at camp. She said, “She was a part of me, like if someone took my heart and it was now separated from me and I could see it over there.”

She arrived! Unharmed and with stories to tell! I’m so grateful to all who made this happen: Aaron, London Heathrow, the app people, Andrea, Sarah, Sarah’s friend, all the people involved in transport. Thank you! We’re reunited, and it’s really nice.

Look at her! On the move!

She’s not in London anymore! She’s moved north, to Bridgnorth. Where will she go next? Oh, she’s her very own Dr. Seuss book.

I dropped my wallet in Heathrow, Terminal 5, on April 4, on our return from Nice. I noticed I had lost it shortly after I did so, but it was too late for me to retrace my steps. We’d already gone from one gate in the terminal to another, and we were very nearly boarding (or so I thought), so I let myself watch it wistfully via the “Find My” app on my phone, using my AirTag for the first time. AO quickly discovered that Heathrow had a lost and found website and within a day, I had located on the site what I assumed was my wallet and made a claim for it. Nothing happened for days and days. I tweeted @Heathrow, received an email address to try, and still nothing. I tried another website and nothing. Finally, after what seemed like months but was probably 10 days, I received a cold email with a code to enter on yet another site so that I could begin the process of bringing my wallet home. At this point, I had already ordered–and received–new debit and credit cards and a new drivers’ license. I had spent $16 to replace these items, but I was out a wallet, an AirTag, and a work security card. I filled out the form on the new site with the code, entering the info to have the wallet sent to me across the pond. Beep beep bloop beep boop. The total for such a service? 133 pounds. Or about $170. Er, record scratch. WHAT?!?! That seemed insane to me. It doesn’t cost anywhere near $170 to mail a tiny package across the Atlantic. Does it? So, I said, no way. And here is where my wallet sat.

Having the time of her life!

See her over there? So cute! She’s just living it up! Well, we’ll see about that.