I'm sitting in the San Antonio airport sipping a frozen margarita and reflecting on the last week at Camp CAMP (Children Association for Maximum Potential). I was supposed to come for two weeks in the summer of 2020, but camp was cancelled that year, and this was the first time I could make the scheduling work. A couple of people have asked me if it was worth donating vacation time to fly to central Texas on my own dime in the middle of summer to be a healthcare volunteer for medically complex children and young adults. Re-reading the posts I wrote after previous trips--which you can find here (medical student) and here (resident)--it was not a particularly difficult week. It was goddamn hot, and I had to cover my arms and couldn't swim due to a severe case of poison ivy/oak, but the buildings all have air conditioning now, and I got to shower every night. The septic system in the (new!) healthcare center overflowed and stank up the place to high heaven, but it was fixed within hours, and I was able to launder my sneakers overnight, since they were the only footwear I had besides flipflops for the bathroom. I did have one accident with a G tube the first night (a volcano of expensive seizure medication when I forgot to unclamp the tube before pushing the medication), but I didn't have any tear-jerking moments or deep revelations about my career path this time.
Instead, I feel the sense of calm satisfaction of doing something worthwhile. I believe in the Camp CAMP mission of being a place where everyone belongs. No camper is "too complicated." It's the same mission as the primary care clinic for adults with intellectual disabilities and medical complexity that brought me to Pittsburgh.
I found my career direction through CAMP, from the developmental-behavioral pediatrician who introduced me to the organization as a medical student to the mothers of young adult sons who were having a hard time finding adult doctors for them who turned me onto the field of transitional medicine (aka moving from pediatrics to adult medicine, not changing sexes). I found my residency program after that, and then complex care (the field of caring for patients with multiple health conditions). This year, the medical student I gave my card to 6 years ago re-introduced herself as a MedPeds resident at Baylor who wants to open a clinic like the one I direct. I talked with undergraduate and medical students interested in MedPeds and hope that they will also find their niche. This chain of mentoring is very satisfying.
The Guadalupe River was scenic, and Camp now has lots of swings and hammocks for relaxing.
Nursing student Emma, me, and pharmacist Dr. Sarah!
It really takes a village. Definite shout-out to all the volunteers and the staff (especially the people who gave me free rides AND maintenance this week) who make it possible for caregivers to get some respite while the campers experience "normal" things that are often denied to them: silly songs at flag pole, arts and crafts, canoeing, carnival (complete with a bouncy house, face-painting, and dunk tank). I always eat well when I'm here: kudos to the kitchen staff! They serve a lot of carbs and comfort food, but there's always a salad/fruit bar, and the head nurse made queso and got us several tubs of ice cream.
This year I learned that the first Camp CAMP camper was a young man who wasn't allowed to attend Boy Scout camp in the 1970s because he wasn't able to put on and take off his leg braces by himself. A couple of doctors and a social worker held a weekend overnight camp with him and some other kids that included burning a tree for a campfire. Out of that came the "star ceremony" that now happens the last night, when a metal star (that looks sort of like a misshapen fir tree) is soaked in kerosene and burned. After the official end of the ceremony this year, the camp director continued to play his acoustic guitar and sing ballads and lullabies. I lay down on one of the stone benches and looked up at the beautiful stars, visible without light pollution nor cloud cover. It was the right way to end the week, and I hope to be back soon, maybe with friends in tow.
