This summer I was able to return to Camp CAMP (Children's Association for Maximum Potential) for a week as a healthcare volunteer (HCV). I couldn't go in June because of the trip to Norway, and actually they've moved that medically complex week to July so there are back-to-back sessions. This will make it easier to set up the cabins and attract students. I had to travel on my birthday and initially planned to treat myself to some sightseeing in San Antonio, but for various reasons I ended up hanging out at the airport until the camp director picked me up. We made a snack run to Costco and then chatted as we drove out to Center Point.
Left: funny little rubber glove baby spotted as I made my connection
at O'Hare Airport in Chicago; right: birthday margarita (prickly pear).
Camp CAMP lies 80 feet above the Guadalupe River in Kerr County, Texas, 30 miles downriver of Camp Mystic, which flooded so tragically on the Fourth of July. Almost no one was on the CAMP property because of the holiday weekend, but they had to cancel the next week's session due to the access roads being under water. The flood was 20 feet high and damaged the camp's small waterfront, where campers did outdoor cooking, pushed off in canoes, or enjoyed swings in the shade. The area depicted above used to be grassy and lined with trees.
This article describes the cleanup, and there are plans to replant and rebuild sustainably.
Above: my pathetic attempt to take an instagrammable photo of my morning mug of hot chocolate on the rail of the health center deck looking toward the Camp CAMP sign.
I was assigned to the Hawk tribe with a dozen elementary- and middle-school girls with a variety of developmental conditions like Autism and cerebral palsy. I was in charge of giving medications three times a day, assessing any illnesses or injuries, and performing the bowel and bladder program for one camper, who uses a catheter to urinate 5 times a day and a 1.5-hour bowel flush once a day. This was a weighty responsibility, because until this point she had only ever relied on her mother (or a nurse) to do this for her, and now she had to do it with an audience (the rule of 2s makes sure no camper is ever alone with an adult). With only one snafu, we got through it with open communication and some silly inside jokes.
Yours truly: my uniform for the week is a CAMP t-shirt and shorts, sneakers, my prescription glasses and sunglasses around my neck, and a hat. One of the counselors confessed as she showed a camper
the HCV photo on Facebook that she was afraid she wouldn't recognize me without a hat on! I usually carry a drawstring backpack with a water bottle, a book, and a pen. This year the water bottle did me dirty and leaked flavored water onto my brand new textbook,
Care of Adults with Chronic Childhood Conditions.
Tools of the trade: syringe drying rack, med minder, medication list, masking tape, marker, pen.
Still life at the med table. The Hawk tribe's color is purple.
Lunch.
We had fun, too! One evening they staged a scavenger hunt for little plastic aliens, and the Scorpion tribe created a haunted house in the dining hall, complete with tickets and jump scares. Favorite memories from the week include relaxing in the shade with the girls before dinner; walking into their cabin in the middle of a growling competition with the boys in the other half of the tribe; finding an unused bathroom in which to unwind with a shower before bed; and seeing all the constellations at night. I had a particularly good time at the Thursday evening dance this year. They find ties and dresses for the campers, take "prom" photos of the teenagers, and get as many of them out of their wheelchairs as possible.
Above: lazy river. On Wednesday I joined the other HCVs in the main pool to cheer as 7 people "dunked" a camper with a trach. This involved supporting his body, giving breaths via an ambu bag, inflating the cuff, physically plugging his stoma, and then quickly suctioned out any water that had gotten into his airway. Putting his head under water was at least as gratifying to him as the water-proof cochlear implant that finally allows him to hear splashing, shouting, and the general merriment that happens while swimming.
I answered lots and lots of medical questions, prescribed a bunch of meds, and only made one assessment error that was quickly corrected. I learned how to remove nopal cactus spines (dried Elmer's glue < soaking in Epsom salts). I came home with more mosquito bites than I had when I arrived, but no sunburn. Ideally I would return next summer with at least one Med-Peds resident from my program, and I'm in talks with some of the other clinicians about reviving the educational lectures that happened pre-COVID. I would just have to figure out the administrative details of being away from my clinic. Until then, I will leave you with the recipe for Eau d'CAMP:
Liquid seizure medication
CBD oil
Miralax powder
Sweat
Combo bug spray-sunblock
The sulfurous smell of well water
