My name is Steve Beriault. I am 58 years old and have been a Juvenile Diabetic (Type 1) for 56 years. I am happily married to my wife Maria and we have two sons Dan and Nick, whom we love very much. Nick is also a juvenile diabetic diagnosed at 5 years of age, now 22. Dan is studying for his PhD in Biochemistry at McMaster University. He is studying diabetes and heart disease. I have had the privilege to receive academic degrees from University of Waterloo Honors BSc, MA from the University of Ottawa and Business Administration from the University of Calgary.
Website – talesintheinsulinvial.com
Tales in the Insulin Vial
By Steve Beriault
By Steve Beriault
Preview the Book
Tale #1
OPPORTUNITY COSTIt was late. Through the small opening in the door to his room, the boy looked out upon the kitchen and watched his mom and dad talking. He should have been sleeping, but his mind was full of thoughts concerning things his mom had told him earlier in the day. She had told him about a wonderful opportunity to attend a camp for diabetics, like himself, where he could meet new friends, swim, canoe, hike, fish and play games. His mom seemed so excited and happy about telling him these things that he didn’t share his real thoughts, like the fact that he could play games at home with his old friends—he didn’t need new friends. He didn’t understand what a camp or a canoe was, and he had seen a lake and it was too scary, big and dark to swim in. Anyway, he already swam at the pool in town, which was nice and clear and he could safely see the bottom.
The boy turned his head and pressed his ear towards the crack in the door and listened intently to hear what his parents were talking about. Mom was talking to Dad about the special camp. Dad was saying that the cost was too much for the family at the time. Mom replied that there was some sponsor (he couldn’t make out the name) who was willing to pay the camp costs for some of the children. The doctor had recommended that the boy be sponsored. Dad voiced his surprise and commented gratefully on the generosity of some people. Both Mom and Dad seemed very happy about this. Dad said it would be a very worthwhile experience and would probably make the boy a new person. Mom said it would be a magical experience and he would be much better off for the time spent there.
He turned from the door and went back to his bed. What was this all about, this special camp where magical things happened that would change him? He assumed that whatever happened, it would be good for him because his mom and dad would not send him to a place where he might get hurt. Speaking of hurt, he remembered that he would have to take that hateful needle in the morning at camp, just like every morning. He had shed copious tears when he realized that he would have to take needles for the rest of his life. He was angry and resentful that such a thing had happened to him and he asked many times, “Why me?” He had done nothing to deserve this painful daily reminder that reinforced his anger and resentment at how life had been so unfair to him.
He lay angrily in the bed and thought about his situation. After some time it struck him: What if the magical and wondrous event that would make him a changed person meant … could it possibly be … that he’d never have to take needles again? Was that what was so special about this camp and why mom and dad were so happy about his chance to go there?
He trembled with excitement at the thought of that delicious freedom. He would not have to take any needles anymore. He would be free! It couldn’t be simpler. The answer was as clear as the nose on your face. His mom and dad couldn’t say anything because that would ruin the magic. It would be like being surprised at Christmas when Santa brought you a special gift. He would have to keep quiet and pretend he didn’t know anything. It was their special secret for the special camp.
He was very happy over the following weeks waiting for the day that he would travel on the bus to the camp. Time seemed to fly by and all the while he kept the magical secret to himself. He wondered if any other kids knew what was going to happen, if any of them had figured it out and if they might spoil it for everyone if they told somebody accidentally. He couldn’t wait to go.
Finally, the big day arrived, and early in the morning he was the first down to the beat-up, rusted old yellow Volkswagen van. Dad was proud of his VW van, as it had taken him everywhere during his college days and he had dated his mom in the “van.” However, it was so beat up that he had to coax it into second gear because the transmission was going on it. After these gear shifts, Dad would say to the van, “Way to go sweetheart,” in encouragement.
The family had to drive to the meeting place where he would board the bus with the rest of the kids. Both the boy’s mom and dad commented how pleased they were about his apparent enthusiasm for the camping experience. How could he not be, given what he’d figured out!
Soon they arrived at a large church parking lot, where three yellow school buses stood. There must have been about one hundred kids standing around waiting. The boy was amazed at the number of kids with diabetes, all of different sizes and ages. In his mind, he had assumed there were only a few unlucky ones like him, but this parking lot full of kids sure proved he was wrong. He certainly was not alone taking those painful and hateful needles. But soon, he knew, that would end for all of them. He wondered how many of these kids had also figured out the secret of the camp. Hopeful, he looked around to see if anyone appeared to be hiding something. No such luck! There wasn’t even a hint from anyone.
Soon he kissed, hugged and said goodbye to his parents and climbed onto the bus. He had heard that the trip would be long, about one hundred miles, and that there would be a break at the halfway point for snacks and bathroom. He enjoyed the trip and found that some of the kids were so full of energy they wouldn’t sit down for two seconds. They were running, singing, yelling and throwing things around the bus. The counselors had to come back several times to settle everybody down. Most of it was really fun, but the ride seemed very long.
As the bus passed through the camp gates, the boy began to tremble with excitement. He wondered if there would be some kind of unique moment or feeling when the magic happened. He thought it probably would happen in the nighttime when they were sleeping; magic worked best at night. He envisioned an announcement as they went for their morning injections at the infirmary:
SPECIAL ANOUNCEMENT
Boys and Girls,
Thank you for attending our
SPECIAL DIABETIC CAMP
Over the nighttime, an extraordinary magic spell has entered your body, created by the world’s greatest magical researcher, to end the need to take needles. You will no longer be required to come to the INFIRMARY for needles ever again. Please enjoy your camping experience.
— THE CAMP MANAGEMENT
He quickly snapped out of his daydream as the bus came to a halt and the counselors asked the kids to carefully get out of the bus. Of course several kids did not follow the instructions and they fell over each other trying to get out of the bus first. The counselors just shook their heads and lifted them up.
The camp was cut out of the bush, and the dark-green pine trees were like sentinels encircling the main area. The kids were directed to a big building called the Great Hall made of logs and wood. Along the walls were Indian art pieces and special camping awards given to campers over the years. A large canoe hung from the ceiling. The dining area was a huge room with two large stone fireplaces and tables and chairs set for supper. Each place setting had a child’s name on a slip of paper, so that everyone would know where to sit. The chatter around the table was exciting and funny. Soon everyone was settled and they were all wondering what was next.
In stepped a huge man dressed in tawny leather garb with beads and a huge Indian eagle-feather war bonnet. He was very impressive and stood silently until not a sound was heard in the large room. He introduced himself in a loud powerful voice as Chief Wandering Horse, the camp director. He then went on to welcome the children to the camp and individually introduced the camp counselors, who were seated with the children at the tables.
The counselor at the boy’s table was called Single Feather (but they would soon learn his real name was Jim) and he was an older person with a white beard, graying hair and blue eyes that seemed to be constantly watching and monitoring. He didn’t miss much. He was first up to help one of the kids at their table who’d slipped into insulin reaction. The kid was white in the face; he was sweating and his hands were shaking. Most kids didn’t even know what was going on, but Single Feather did. Quickly and quietly, he got the kid a box of apple juice and sat with him till supper was served.
Chief Wandering Horse informed the campers that the name mounted in the center of their table was the name of their tent, and that would be their home for the time they were at camp. The boy’s tent was called the “Tamarack.” The youngest members at the camp were in that tent and the tent beside them, called the “Blue Spruce.” The tents held nine kids per tent and one counselor. Chief Wandering Horse then said he would make more announcements the next day, but now he wanted them all to have supper, get their bags and go and see their tents and get to know their counselors. He said the counselors knew all about the camp and would answer any questions the kids might have. He mentioned that many of the counselors were original campers and therefore diabetics as well.
The Tamarack and Blue Spruce kids were the first to leave the Great Hall. They were so excited they were tripping over themselves in their haste to get outside where their bags were. The boy grabbed his bag and waited for the others. Some needed help because their parents had packed too much stuff, but soon everyone was following Single Feather down the trail to the tents. As they walked along, Single Feather pointed out a white building.
“That’s where the infirmary is,” he announced. ”You’ll all go there in the morning.”
The boy thought to himself, Bet that’s when we find out.
It wasn’t far and soon they were at Tamarack. Their names were on their cots, but Single Feather said if they wanted to change places, for whatever reason, they could discuss it with the other person and see if they wanted to change their cot location. The boy liked his location, which was in the center of the tent directly behind Single Feather’s cot, and was not interested in going anywhere else. All the kids settled in quickly, storing their stuff under the beds and unrolling their sleeping bags. Single Feather pointed out the wash house and washroom, which were only a short distance away. He said, “Keep your flashlights handy, in case you have to go to the washroom at night. If you need help, just wake me.”
As the sun went down, the kids began to chat and get to know each other. Some had brought checker and chess sets and were playing with newfound friends. Others were reading Batman and Superman comics or books on their cots. At different times, as questions came up, they would ask Single Feather for instruction and information. It was all very relaxed and friendly. The boy lay upon his cot and listened and didn’t say much. His thoughts wandered to what would happen the next day and how excited everyone would be when they found out what he had figured out already. With those pleasant thoughts in mind, he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, he heard a persistent and loud clanging sound somewhere in his head and opened his eyes to a sunny day. Single Feather was getting everyone up, saying the wake-up bell was ringing. They had passed a huge shiny bronze metal bell outside the Great Hall last night and this was used to signal campers about events over the course of the day. Quickly, everyone was up and listened to Single Feather’s instructions concerning the morning wash-up and brushing of teeth. Then they all charged out of the tent and went over to the wash house to get prepared for the day.
Single Feather waited until everyone was done and had returned to the tent. Then he asked if everyone remembered where the infirmary was. Everyone chorused, “Yes.”
“Well,” he said, “let’s see who can run there the fastest!” And the kids took off, running as fast as they could to see who would get to the infirmary first.
However, the boy held back and followed at the end of the pack. He wanted to see how the kids would react as they arrived at the infirmary. What would they do? How would they respond to this unexpected surprise? As the infirmary came into sight, he could see the first kids get to the door and they bolted inside. He delayed a little more and watched to see if anything might happen. More kids reached the infirmary door and went in. Still there was nothing. Finally, all the kids except him were in the infirmary. He waited at the corner of the building. Why didn’t he hear screams and shouts of joy or see kids running out of the infirmary in a high state of excitement?
He slowly edged towards the infirmary door. Maybe everyone was in such shock and disbelief that they couldn’t believe what was happening? Finally at the edge of the door he peeked in. The kids were circling around, talking to the nurses and either testing their urine or taking their own needles, and some nurses were helping others take their needles. He felt his heart sag and for a second he couldn’t catch his breath. It was all false! It was all a lie! He would have to take those lousy needles forever. His shock soon turned to rage and he yelled at the top of his lungs, “NO!”
Everyone in the infirmary was startled and turned to look at him in surprise. He began to run. He was getting out of this place as fast as he could go. He was never coming back to this stupid camp. He was going to hide in the forest and they would never find him again!
He ran as fast and as hard as he could across the parking lot, past the Great Hall and the huge bronze bell and onto the gravel road, which the buses had used to get him to camp. He ran down the gravel road and towards the forest.
Finally, he saw the road bending to the left, and to the right he saw a path leading into the forest. He charged down the path at a very fast clip. The path was cut through old-growth pine and spruce, and the branches swiped his face and stung him. He began to cry in his frustration and anger, and soon his tears were so great that he sometimes lost sight of the path. At one of those moments, running totally blind, he was suddenly stopped.
In the distance, he heard a dim sound like “thunk.” He was paralyzed, and for a second he was standing and then, in slow motion, he was falling. He fell on his back into thick weeds and grass that grew along the path, and strangely he enjoyed the coolness of the plant bed on his back and neck. Then he began to see lights blinking like stars in his field of vision, but he couldn’t see anything else.
Everything in his mind was moving slowly and he felt deliciously tired. He felt he would enjoy staying in this state for a long time. Then from a long distance away he could hear a voice, though he couldn’t make out what the voice was saying. But he really didn’t care what the voice was saying and he wanted to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away. Finally, he decided he would focus on the voice and see why it was so persistent.
He slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on the face in front of him. “Hey buddy,” the voice said, “welcome back to the land of the living.” The boy groaned and noticed his head was hurting badly. He began to focus and understand things around him and finally he recognized Single Feather’s face and voice.
“What happened?” he said, weakly.
“Well, you bumped your head,” Single Feather said, and told him to lie quiet and rest for a little while. Single Feather gently massaged his face, neck and head with his hands and it relieved some of the aching that he felt in his head. After a while Single Feather said, “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Do you want to try and sit up?”
“Yes,” he said again, so Single Feather helped him sit up.
As he looked around he noticed he was sitting by the side of the path in long grass. The trees had fallen away to reveal a pond located to his right, thick with bulrushes and yellow flowering plants. Overhead, many birds were flying around. He turned his aching head slightly and gazed up at a huge old maple tree standing before him.
The path he’d been running on had split in two and continued left and right around the tree. He grabbed his head and couldn’t believe what he had just done: he had run smack into a tree! The counselor snorted as he saw that the boy had figured out what had happened. Single Feather said that it was the classic case of the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object, and he laughed. He pulled out his radio communicator and informed the infirmary he had the boy and was bringing him back shortly. They sat for a while in silence.
Finally the boy felt strong enough to try to stand up and Single Feather helped him get to his feet. As they walked back down the path, Single Feather kept a hand on his shoulder in case he got weak or dizzy again, but he felt much better now except for his sore head. They walked in silence until they came back to the main gravel road. Finally the boy said, “You must think I’m a fool running through the forest like an idiot.”
The counselor did not answer immediately and just kept walking. The silence seemed like forever but finally Single Feather spoke. “I’ve been at this camp for a long time and I’ve seen many things. Running away seems to be one of many different behaviors that young campers’ exhibit when they’re upset. They behave inappropriately because they miss their parents, or are having personal problems with another camper, or are afraid of swimming or canoeing in the lake, or are afraid to go on hikes in the forest because they think wild animals will attack them. There are many reasons that kids in a new, unfamiliar place might get scared, panic and do things you wouldn’t expect. Thank God we’ve always been able to address the issues and managed to overcome their fears by talking to them.”
As they walked on, the boy thought about Single Feather’s words. Then he said, “I ran because I didn’t want to take any more needles.” Single Feather looked at him and said that a long time ago there was another young lad who had run away for the very same reason.
“He ran up the same trail you were on but he didn’t run into the tree. Instead, he took the right fork, which is a very long trail, along the lake. The trail leads back to the camp and comes out right behind our tent at Tamarack. He hid there most of the day while we searched for him. Finally, I spotted him sleeping in some bushes right by the tent. He was not happy and was very hungry.”
He waited but Single Feather didn’t say any more. The boy said, “So what happened to him?”
Single Feather said that he went on to have a great camp experience, and later he returned to the camp to become a counselor for several years. In fact, Single Feather said that the young man went on to bicycle five thousand miles across Canada—the first diabetic to do that. The boy remembered the huge wall map of Canada in his classroom. He knew Canada was very big but he could not understand what five thousand miles was like. It sounded like a huge and impressive number. So he said, “How long is five thousand miles?”
Single Feather replied, “It’s very long.” Then the counselor said, “Do you remember when we got on the bus to come to the camp, we told you the trip would be about one hundred miles and it took us almost all day to get there? Well you would have to take that trip fifty times, day after day, on a bicycle, through rain, heat and cold, strong winds, up mountains and down, and across wide prairies. You would carry all your supplies on your bike, like a tent, sleeping bag, food, water, insulin and needles.” Single Feather looked at him and said, “Not bad for a young fellow who ran away because he didn’t like needles.”
The boy nodded in deep thought.
They continued to walk at a slow, leisurely pace. His sore head was getting better and he realized he was really hungry. He thought for a while in silence about what had happened on the path, and he also thought about what he and that other boy had in common. Then he saw the infirmary come into view and he turned to Single Feather, grinned and said, “You know, I have a bicycle at home.”
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