Appeal

Many of you have heard me and others in the O.C. rave about our diabetes camp experiences. Those of us who attended (or staffed, or volunteered) sing the praises of the camping experience. We savor the comeraderie, the education (cleverly disguised as sports and games and goofy fun), and the empowerment that comes from being away from home for two weeks or a whole summer.

And most of all, we cherish the friendships we made at diabetes camp, as we monitored and injected and snacked on nabs with our peers. We met kids and teens just like us, and the bond is often unbreakable.

I, personally, have an address book full of friends with non-functioning islet cells. They are friends who I can call when something d-related goes wrong, friends with whom I can fall easily into conversation even after a long time apart, and friends who have stood by me through life's major events, good and bad.

But there is a darker side to these connections. Actually, it is not so much dark as it is reality. When camp alumni gather, we often skirt the topic, or (at the very least) discuss it with a heavy heart. With such a wide circle of friends with diabetes, I know several people who have battled complications and even lost their life to diabetes. I joined the diabetes world just after the advent of home blood glucose monitoring. Many of my camp friends were diagnosed with diabetes well before me, and they lived many years with clumsier tools. My own husband had diabetes nearly 20 years before he owned a meter. Some I've known have simply not had the good luck to avoid complications. I see them struggle with blood sugars that won't behave, a challenge made worse when complications creep in.

Last November, a beloved camp alumnus passed away at the age of 50. Unexpectedly, while undergoing treatment for kidney issues, she was taken from her family and friends by diabetes. Our camp circle is overshadowed by the loss.

Clearly, the camp connection is not just about being upbeat and hopeful, it is about joining together to face the sometimes dark reality of diabetes. Her good friends have formed a team and are planning to participate in the upcoming Barton St. Patrick's Road Race in March. Pledges in her honor are being collected, with the money intended for extra fun for the kids who attend camp this summer. Because, even though she died much too young, we all recognize that she fought a tremendous fight and was armed, in part, with the love and support of her camp friends.

It is an excellent way to honor her memory and her camp connections. There is no better way to mark the incredible bond of friendship that forms among children with diabetes then to enrich their camp experience. To ensure that they learn to take care of their diabetes while playing a fierce game of field hockey, or planning a silly talent show skit. To allow them to lie on wooden bunks, whispering about the things that dominate a young girl's life, in a log cabin that is stocked with meters and glucose tabs and peanut butter nabs, overlooking a charming little pond.

Please consider joining me in a donation to The Barton Center in honor of Cathy Curran. If you donate, please indicate "Race/Walk: Team Gumby" on your check or online donation. Contact information for camp is available here: http://www.bartoncenter.org