I recognize how fortunate I am to live in a time and place where opportunities for peer connection, encouragement and support exist for people living with type 1 diabetes. These are the friendships that keep me going even on days when I feel like I just can’t do it anymore … because, believe me, I still have those days. I came back to Massachusetts with a renewed sense of purpose in my heart, and a handful of friends I can’t imagine not knowing. There is so much strength, and so much courage, within this amazing community, as well as so much passion and creativity, and I feel both extremely proud, and also quite lucky to be a part of it. The emotional exchange that occurred between myself and some of the individuals I had the pleasure of meeting still moves me in ways that could bring me to tears. I cherish and hold dear the conversations I was able to have, and hope that I can further foster some of the connections I formed. I’d say the highlight, as with most conferences and events, were the connections to other type 1s that I was able to make. It was as if I had woken up in some sort of alternate, parallel reality, where having beta cells that didn’t function is the norm, and there are low treatments available whichever way you turn. Without words, our bond was sealed, a mutual understanding in knowing just how similar our lived experiences happened to be. I knew that these people-my peers-shared similar hopes, dreams and fears as me.

I wasn’t the only one who needed to test, inject or treat-and I wasn’t the only one who was different-because in one way, we were all the same. For a few days, I wasn’t the only one who had to focus on diabetes-as I was surrounded by friends, and the cacophony of sounds from our various diabetes devices. It’s one of those things you just need to live out for yourself in order to truly understand. I’m not sure words exist to fully describe what it feels like to be surrounded by so many fellow T1Ds, and to have the experience that we all did. When I found the diabetes community, nearly seven years after my 2005 diagnosis, I remember thinking, “Wouldn’t it be great if there was something like camp at Esker, but for people with type 1?” I even day dreamed about someday organizing my own events where my passion for type 1 diabetes (T1D) could overlap of my love for nature, being outdoors and the experiences we can create for ourselves through the endless pursuit of adventure.Īfter some time, I stumbled upon Connected in Motion, and was immediately intrigued by their mission “to create a culture of support and engagement in diabetes self-management through peer-based experiential education, sport and outdoor adventures.” This organization happened to be EXACTLY what I was looking for, yet there was still one downside … they were located in Canada! When I learned of the partnership with Beyond Type 1, and discovered the first Northeastern Slipstream, I was overjoyed knowing I’d finally be able to participate, especially since I had actually WON a trip to a Canadian Slipstream this past winter, and was sadly unable to attend. During this time, I made memories and collected experiences that have helped carry me through the years, and I often reflect on what a magical time of my life it was, those summers spent beneath the trees in my favorite park in the woods.

I also had the privilege of being an instructor for the older kids’ adventure program, teaching things like kayaking, rock climbing and canoeing-sometimes leading overnight camping trips out on the Boston Harbor Islands. For me, it became a place of refuge, a place of peace and a classroom for exploration-both the internal and external variety.įor many summers, I worked there as a counselor, teaching children and teens about nature and the local ecology, while we explored the waters of the estuary and the abundance of wildlife that surrounded us. A winding ridge of stratified sand and gravel formed by a glacier thousands of years ago, this 1.5 mile stretch of land sits halfway between Boston and Cape Cod, and is known for its beautiful hiking trails, diverse bird population and for being the second tallest esker in the whole world. It was my fortune to spend summers, both as a small child, and again as a young adult, at Great Esker Park in North Weymouth. However, a great deal of my time was spent outdoors, exploring the woods and coastline of my southern Massachusetts hometown. Not literally, of course, I lived in a house. Learn more (and take advantage of early bird pricing through March!) here.

Editor’s Note: We’re headed back to Maine for a weekend Slipstream in 2022.

Slipstream cod