Should I stay or should I go?

CAMP.

Am I truly ready for an adventure like this?

CAMP.

The car is packed. I am dreadful and unsure. My anxiety is HIGH. So high. I’m shaking…or is my glucose low? I test, and realize it’s a bit of both.

But that buys me time…

My husband comforts me. I treat my low. We sit and chat as I set my timer for 15 minutes. Sheesh. It feels like I live my life in 15 minute intervals (that would make a great title for a book!) sometimes. This low isn’t terrible. My physical self bounces back rather quickly. And see stable glucose levels.

Fortunately or unfortunately?

I’m not sure whether it is the low, my nerves or my age but I am forced inside for one last trip to the loo. I need to pee…AND give my kiddo one last squish.

He opted not to see me off outside. His own emotions got the better of him after our first good-by, so he asked if I minded him taking comfort in building an epic Lego Dinosaur Battle in our downstairs family room. Of course I didn’t. I know what I would rather do…

We finally release each other from one last hug, and I run up the stairs and out the front door. I squeeze my husband, exhange I love yous and jump in the car.

It’s now or never.

CAMP.

With my house in the rearview mirror and the road ahead I venture north. Roughly 500 km of solo driving. And maybe some car karaoke.

CAMP.

The drive does not intimidate me. I adore driving. It allows me to feel in control. Something I do not always feel I have as a Type 1. Whenever we go places, I am more often the driver than I am not. Thankfully my husband enjoys the role of passenger.

It is a lovely day. Great for driving. I had a second cup of coffee and that finds me making a brief pit stop just over an hour in to my drive. It proves to be a good time to top up on gas too. Quickly enough my tank is empty and the car’s is full. I send a quick text home. Then it’s on the road again.

The drive continues to be a good one. I enjoy the scenery and observe the interesting decisions of my fellow drivers around me. People are strange. And do strange things in vehicles.

I decide to take a tolled highway. I like to drive not sit in traffic. It’s a nice, wide open space. And there are hardly any other vehicles. I even pass the sign that marks an easy turn around…to home.

*breath*

And another hurdle jumped.

When I stop for lunch I do so at a place my family I used to frequent when we went up north. It had been about six years since our last trip up, and this place was no longer the same. A lot can change in six years, I guess.

I know I have…

At this point, I was still terribly apprehensive. However, I felt obligated to snap an en route selfie…

I take a moment to stretch my legs after eating a sandwich and treating myself to a nice, hot cup of coffee. Then I check my glucose levels and hop back in the car. And away I go…

My anxiety has not subsided, but my loud singing has silenced the typical doubtful thought playlist in my head. Until the rain hits. And I ease up on the tunes. Then I start to wonder what I’ve got myself in to. I wonder if I should turn around. I wonder WHY I am doing this to myself…

Or is it FOR myself?

Nearly there, I stop again and top up my gas…and yes, I pee. It was that darn coffee at lunch. Right through me. I also pick up a head lamp because I did not have a lot of faith in the small flashlight I had packed. It is cold and rainy. I practice some restraint and do not purchase another coffee. Instead, I simply get back in the car, double check my directions, and head back out on the road.

CAMP.

A short while later I am turning down a narrow road. Deeper in to the forest. I had prepared myself for this. Banking on a wave of anxiety and unfavourable feelings, I am surprised by the ease with which I carry forward down the road. Deeper in to the forest. In to the wilderness.

CAMP.

There is no amount of rain or cold or anxiety that can take away from the beauty that is Algonquin Park in the Fall.

CAMP.