And I am Not Alone

 Roughly forty minutes outside of Portland there is a camp; by the time you get there you’ve already been on the back roads of the back roads. It is nestled deep in a valley at the end of a long and winding road. This camp has twelve cabins in all. There are the Hobbit Huts- grass roofs, round doors, the whole shebang- and then there are the Tree Top Cabins. They hang off a thirty foot hill-cliff like thing. All six of them are connected by wooden bridges with trees growing up through the back porches. For an entire week siblings from all over Oregon get to climb trees, go horseback riding, rock-climbing, and enjoy everything else a summer camp has to offer. The catch one of the siblings, must have or have been treated for cancer in the last three years. The name of this forest escape is Camp Ukandu, and for a week, I almost forgot.

 In the late summer of 2010 I was diagnosed with a children’s cancer known as Rhabdomyosarcoma that tore through my body in the form of a liter sized tumor, leaving me partially paralyzed. It had been almost a year since I had truly walked. One thing I was sure of on my way to camp, it would be fun but challenging. All of the campers arrive on Father’s Day; it’s inconvenient but none of the dads mind. We check in and hand over any medications that still need to be taken, and then we’re on our way. A huge reason the camp works so well and why parents let their sick kids’ go is because there is a nearly fully functioning Med Hut. They can’t give transfusions or anything like that, but blood can be drawn just like it is at the hospital and then tested to see if a camper is still healthy enough to be there safely. Another reason is because of the golf carts, they take support staff wherever they are needed, and campers who can’t walk very well or just don’t have enough energy to walk everywhere.

 Camp begins with choosing our names. Our name can be anything we want. Peanut butter or Jelly, they’re sisters. Bambie, Blecker, Cookie, Giggles Magee, and Baywatch, are just a few of my many friends. One of the doctors on the staff got tricked into naming himself Pond Scum. So, basically the only rule is; keep it G rated. The first year my brother Kyle was named “Little Orphan Avalanche” by Baywatch, then his second year Baywatch named him “Carnie Apprentice”. Baywatch is a night nurse; they’re just fun like that. My name was, is, and always will be Mini Giggles.

 After the naming there isn’t much time for anything else besides dinner on the first evening. All meals are family style, there are about thirty tables and there must be three councilors and or staff at each table. Besides that everyone can mix with anyone if they so choose. For dinner there is usually a salad available. There is always a main course and most importantly a dessert is always served. Only the people in the kitchen know what’s on the menu ahead of time. It could be anything from, pasta to burgers, soup to sandwiches, waffles to French toast. Unfortunately you have to bring your own midnight snacks. I learned that the hard way. Late night hunger and sleeping do not mix well. Fortunately we do so much every day that sleep comes faster than a bullet train.

 All the campers are usually up between 7:30 and 8:00 because breakfast is at 8:30, and it’s either be on time or go hungry. Then it’s time for the first activity of the day. There are many, many things to do. If you are 14 or older, and physically able to, you can go on a rope course in the trees. Everyone’s weight is supported by a pulley system and their friends on the ground; that are holding the ropes. Everyone who is eligible gets a chance to ride the Giant Swing, walk across a log that is hung 15 feet in the air, or take “The Leap of Faith.” The Giant Swing is the most fun because you are hoisted up to 70 feet in the air then you pull a release cord and start swinging out over a river. Throughout the rest of the week we get to go rock climbing, shoot bows and arrows, go horseback riding and if the weather allows it, swim in a pool. Most campers aren’t very disappointed when it’s too rainy to swim; there is always something else to do.

 Besides the rope swing, horses, archery and other crazy games the best thing about Camp Ukandu is the people you meet. Everyone there either knows what cancer is like first hand or has had to watch from so close that it changes them very deeply. Before cancer my brother and I used to fight all the time; now I only tell him he is an idiot because I love him. Everyone at that camp may wish that cancer had never entered their life, but personally if given the chance, I might not change a thing. Do I know if I will live to finish high school, no I don’t. But all of the doctors, nurses, physical therapists, and friends I’ve met have become so close to me. My body is permanently screwed up and honestly, most of the time, I don’t care anymore.

 On one of the last nights of camp, after all the games are over we take time to remember those who have lost their fight, or anyone else we know who has died. We decorate hundreds of paper bags and light candles inside them. They are placed along a path leading to a large clearing. In the clearing we hold more candles and sing this song as our councilors light the candles.

I am one person singing this song,

I am one person singing this song,

I am one person singing this song,

And I am not alone.

We are two people singing this song,

We are two people singing this song,

We are two people singing this song,

And we are not alone.

We are ten people singing this song,

We are ten people singing this song,

We are ten people singing this song

And we are not alone.

We are a hundred people singing this song,

We are a hundred people singing this song,

We are a hundred people singing this song,

And we are not alone.

We are a million people singing this song,

We are a million people singing this song,

We are a million people singing this song,

And we are not alone.

 Then we sing backward down to one person again. After everything I have been through it takes a lot to make me cry, but this gets almost everyone crying. In the moment it is such a nice release. It’s like a mountain of tension you didn’t know you had is erased because you don’t feel so isolated anymore. At Camp Ukandu I learned I wasn’t the only one who spent their days in a wheelchair. I learned I wasn’t the only one who missed an entire year of school. I learned I wasn’t the only one who had to relearn how to do everyday things. I learned I wasn’t the only one who had trouble with their memory. We call it C.R.S. (can’t remember shit). I realized I wasn’t as alone as I thought. I learned that our lives may have been shattered, but together we can put the pieces back together again, because of something we all needed to learn.

We are not alone.