#WinningAtLife

Dear Husband and I have been reliving the laughter and fun times of this past weekend's potluck to celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary by eating our way through the leftovers: jalepeno chicken, lasagna, Kugel, roasted carrot salad, green salad, Asian salad, broccoli salad, two kinds of fruit salad, chips and salsa, pita and humus, chocolate birthday/anniversary cake... Here paired with yogurt, fresh farmers market berries, and almond slivers for breakfast one morning. Not pictured: the deviled egg I had already stuffed in my mouth.

For They're a Jolly Good Couple...

Dear Husband and I recently celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary with a lovely potluck party at our house. For the friends and family who could not attend, here are some photographs.

  

After the party, DH and I recreated our favorite shot from our wedding album: him noodling on the keys and me draped alluring on top of the piano. (The blue floral Vera Wang maxi dress was my anniversary present to me.) We got engaged on the beach at the Outer Banks and had a seaside-themed wedding, so my parents gave us this sweet framed print about love at the beach.

Gumbolaya, Take 2

One year ago, I invented a cross between jambalaya and gumbo that we called vegetarian gumbolaya.  Unfortunately, the rice did not cook well (okay--at all) in the Creole-style tomato-based sauce, but I vowed to try again. Okra was back at the farmers market this morning, and our local Cheese & Crackers shop sells a variety of sausages, so I decided a meat gumbolaya was on the menu for the week. Here follows the second iteration of this recipe:

Looks suspiciously familiar; tastes 100% better!

1. Put on an episode of your favorite tv show--a finale episode that lasts an hour is particularly suited for this purpose.

2. While assembling ingredients, discover your spousal unit forgot to get the items you texted him for the recipe.

3. Bike to grocery store.

4. Find out the store doesn't carry cans of black-eyed peas (?!). Finally settle on cannellini beans. (Pinto beans came in a close second.) Pick up birthday cards for your niece and nephew. Bike home.

5. Set 1 1/2 cups brown rice to boil in four cups of vegetable broth. Meanwhile, chop two pints okra, two small red onions, and two Italian fennel sausages.

6. Because rice is still boiling, prep corn on the cob. Open can of beans into a pot. Wash and strip kale; place on top of beans and cover.

7. When rice is nearly done, cook onion with some garlic in oil. Turn on burner under beans/kale.

8. Brown meat, then add okra. Empty one 12-oz. can of tomato paste and one 14-oz. can of diced tomatoes with jalepenos into the rice. Stir beans/kale.

9. Combine meat-okra mixture with rice so the flavors can mingle while you plate the sides.

10. Ladle gumbolaya into bowls and eat! Goes well with watermelon for dessert.

The sausage and spicy tomatoes added a punch to the rice, which cooked this time. Dear Husband even found that he did not taste the okra, of which there was "too much." It's a very visually appealing dish, and I look forward to leftovers this week!

Git Along, Lil Doggies!

I recently read a review of an autobiographical book written by a man who bought a Conestoga wagon and retraced the Oregon Trail. Now, readers of a certain age may have fond memories of typing "bang" while hunting wild buffalo, or of writing their frenemies' names on the tombstones of members of their party who perished of cholera in the computer game. Author Rinker Buck--an older gentleman and an intrepid traveler--will always remember the three mules who pulled the wagon he and his younger brother lived and traveled in in the summer of 2011. I thought of his "mule-whisperer" talents when visiting the Museum of Western Art in Kerrville, Texas. It's a small-ish collection in a building that apparently has architectural value. (Something about the floor and ceiling tiles. They looked nice. I was more charmed by the tiny lizard [gecko?] that had found its way inside.) Cowboy apologists and cattle enthusiasts seem to enjoy the romance of the vast plain and the nostalgia of barbed wire. Really. There was an entire exhibit dedicated to the dozens (hundreds?) of designs humankind has dreamt up in sharp metal. I suppose the exhibit designers were thinking of ranching. I was thinking of WWI.

Speaking of gun violence, one room was dedicated to Nick Eggenhoffer's (1897-1985) illustrations of the many different situations in which men could find themselves shooting each other: cavalry and "Injuns," robbers and stage coach drivers, Johnny Reb and Billy Yank, cattlemen and rustlers, drunk cowboys in a saloon... You might recognize the "King of the Pulps"'s work from old Western fiction (click for an example).

A back room houses an interactive exhibit about the Oregon Trail (here's a photo). Ostensibly for kids--who can dress up and clamber inside a small covered wagon--the exhibit includes a lot of context, from the mail system to medical treatment. (Although, in the effort to offer an authentically "old"-looking sample text, they used a facsimile of an 18th-century medical text that would have been out of date by the time of the western migrations.) Nevertheless, I appreciated the fictitious storyline told in the first-person viewpoint of a child experiencing the grueling journey.

I don't know that this museum would be worth a second visit, but it certainly filled a late afternoon. Perhaps the most interesting moment came when a trio of women approached me to ask about my knapsack, a cheap giveaway from the campus bookstore that I take to Camp CAMP because I won't mind if it gets dirty or lost. It turns out that they used to live in my area, and the daughters/sons-in-law had attended my university. One wanted to know where to find the t-shirt I'm modeling above, and somehow I found myself explaining my educational path through two degrees. I'm sure there's an Oregon-Trail analogy that could be made there, but I'll spare you.

Beautiful Things to See in Kerrville, Part 2

If you missed part 1 of Beautiful Things to See in Kerrville, here it is.


When I couldn't see the history of tuberculosis in Kerr County exhibit at the Hill Country Preservation Society, I decided to enjoy the varied offerings of the Kerr Arts & Cultural Center. Free is a price I like! The first room had paintings on loan from a local gallery. The next room contained artwork by winners of the 2015 American Plains Artists Awards. Jammey Huggins' southwestern-flavored sculptures highlight animals like owls, bears, and ocean life. Their muted earth-tones paired nicely with the vibrant colors of Patsy Lindamood's buffalo, cattle, and rodeo paintings.

Next to this desert squirrel nibbling on a prickly pear was a door with a sign in day-glo colors on a black background. I wish I had taken a picture of it, but I wasn't sure whether it was an exhibit or something else. So I opened the door and peeked inside the dark little closet with an illuminated shelf behind glass. I closed the door. A voice began to speak, and the light slowly dimmed while a black light turned on. It was an exhibit on luminescent minerals! Easily the trippiest thing I had seen all month. The recording explained that certain combinations of elements glow under various wavelengths. Here they are in all their multi-hued curiosity:

The third room held entries to the HomeTown Crafts Teachers Show for current and retired art teachers in the area. There was an impressive array of paintings, drawings, and crafts, including metal working, basket weaving (with pine needles!), glass, and clay. I would gladly have purchased any number of pieces, but I didn't have room in my luggage. I did pick up a few Christmas presents, however.

Did you know that the Texas Hill Country is a center of the wool industry? A local merchant had come to showcase her fashion pieces in mohair. Apparently Hillary Clinton and a variety of Ms Rodeo and other pageant contestants have worn her pieces. There was also a large wooden Ferris wheel with a motion sensor that turned on whenever someone walked by, and a sizable gift shop. The exhibits change every month, and the price is always right, so I highly recommend this little gem of a gallery.

Douglas Garey, Scolopendra heros. This is a red-headed centipede. In vivo they grow up to 6-8 inches long. At a couple feet long, this is the biggest one I saw while in Texas, but it's made of iron. The developmental pediatrics fellow who gave us a couple lectures decided to enliven things by interspersing his medical slides with images and facts about some of Texas' worst creepy crawlies. Iggit iggit!

Beautiful Things to See in Kerrville, Part 1

On my day off between sessions at Camp CAMP, I borrowed a car and drove to nearby Kerrville, Texas. A town of 20,000, it is home to Schreiner University and is the center of a thriving arts scene in the Texas Hill Country.

While ostensibly there to use a laundromat to do a load of laundry, I took the opportunity to enjoy the sights. First order of business: lunch. I had picked out a likely place on Google Maps, but when I parked downtown, it turned out to be a fancy Italian restaurant. I figured that was more than I wanted to spend on a solo meal, so I wandered down the main street past art galleries and antique shops, then along a side street. I decided to stop at Rita's Famous Tacos--even though we'd had burritos for lunch the day before--IF there wasn't something else down the way. I walked all the way down to Wolfmueller's Books, turned around, and decided to give Crumbs a try. This brightly painted cafe is so new that it doesn't show up on Google Maps--still, about five months after opening. The owners are still getting the kinks the worked out, but I was glad I tried it. (You can read my review here.) I even came back for an ice cream cone later.


Across the street, a banner for an exhibit on tuberculosis at the Hill Country Preservation Society caught my eye (above). Unfortunately that museum was closed for the month of July. So I visited the Kerr Arts & Cultural Center instead. (Click here for that post: Beautiful Things to See in Kerrville, Part 2.) Afterward, I enjoyed the view from the lookout pavilion over the Guadalupe River. To the right of the dam, the water was deep and green. Families swam, fished, and canoed. To the left of the dam, children played with dogs in the shallows or tubed on a short stretch of rapids. The park you can see across the river (Louise Hays Park) was built in one day, on April 26, 1950. About 2,000 volunteers constructed picnic platforms complete with tables, a performance stage, a miniature golf course, and a children's playground.

Along the railing of the pavilion, large cards provided a history of Kerrville. The area was originally settled by Apache and Comanche tribes. Lumbermen settled along the river in the 1840s and 1850s. One of them, Joshua Brown, named the growing encampment for his friend James Kerr. Kerr had moved from Kentucky to Texas in 1825, but he died before ever visiting Kerrsville. The "s" was later dropped. The Native Americans were assimilated or driven away.

From shingles and lumber before the Civil War, the economy shifted to cattle ranching. Confederate Captain Charles Schreiner (of recent French extraction) moved out of San Antonio to head up cattle drives 900 miles north to Oglalla, Nebraska. Schreiner soon realized that the Hill Country was better suited to sheep and goats, so he pioneered the wool and mohair industry in this region. He is of course the namesake of the Presbyterian university in town.

As long as the breeze blew away the heat, then I wanted to sit on the bluff for hours. However, my next destination closed at 5pm to new visitors, so soon it was off to the Museum of Western Art. (Click here for that post.)

Achieving Maximum Potential

Singing deer head

Way back at the beginning of my second year of medical school, Dear Husband was the only one who could come to my white-coat ceremony. While I was waiting alone in the bustle of happy families for him to arrive from a wedding that ran long, I bumped into a doc who turned out to be a developmental pediatrician. When he found out I wanted to work with special-needs kids, he gave me his card and recommended I spent a week at Camp CAMP, helping Children with developmental disabilities Achieve their Maximum Potential. So the next summer, after taking my first board (do you notice a pattern developing here?), I flew down to San Antonio for a few days of training and a week of acting as a one-on-one volunteer counselor for a camper. I made sure she was dressed, toileted, ate, swam, canoed, went to arts and crafts, and got ready for bed. It was exhausting, which is part of the point: Camp provides typical summer fun to campers and respite for their parents. Camp takes all comers, even if they require two counselors (mostly area high schoolers and college kids), and integrates everyone into all activities to the best of their ability and interest. At Camp, even campers on ventilators get in the pool and go down the slip-n-slide.

This year, because I had (finally!) finished my core rotations, I was eligible to return as a health care volunteer. These folks are responsible for administering medications and handling any medical issues that arise, from sunburns to seizures. I chose continuing medical education weeks with lectures in the mornings in order to receive course credit from my medical school. The first week I attended, campers had medical diagnoses ranging from diabetes to cerebral palsy to respiratory compromise. Campers at my second week fell on the autism spectrum.

Talented and dedicated med staff!

Every year, every week, and every day at Camp has a theme. The days are always the same: Monday—Tribe Color Day, Tuesday—Pajama Day, Wednesday—Wacky-Tacky Day, Thursday—Crazy Hat/Hair Day, Friday—T-shirt Day. This year the theme was Storybook, and my first week’s theme was Harry Potter. The campers were organized into “houses,” the secretary dyed her hair red so she could dress up as Mrs. Weasley, and one day they organized a camp-wide “Trip Down Diagon Alley,” complete with Butterbeer. (I understand it consists of root beer, cream soda, and vanilla ice cream; I’m sorry I didn’t get to try any.) My second week’s theme was Dr. Seuss. I joined the Poetry Club: over the week the campers each wrote and decorated a booklet of poems, and on the last day we went on a Dr. Seuss-themed scavenger hunt for the Cat’s Hat and Dr. Seuss’s least favorite word. (Can you guess what it was?)*

Is it a flag pole or
a Truffala Tree?

The first couple of days were a crash course in medication administration, a completely new subject for this green medical student. In charge of half a dozen young men on Week 1, I administered medications 8 times a day, and if I wasn’t giving meds, I was prepping or documenting them. I learned how to inject insulin, crush pills, use a G-tube, and give a nebulizer treatment. On Week 2 I had fewer med times but more campers, a dozen young women who all took their pills orally with water, juice, or applesauce. That week I joked that some people come back from vacation and shake sand out of their clothes, but I was going to be shaking Miralax out of mine.

By Week 2 I felt comfortable enough with the Camp routine to help orient the new crop of HCVs. Maybe I was too comfortable, because one evening I failed to check the name on the bag with the name tag on the camper in front of me and gave the right pill to the wrong camper. My first medication error. I was figuratively sick to my stomach; the camper was literally sick to her stomach, which may have been the unfamiliar pill or the 14 cups of water she had drunk that day. The head nurse talked it over with me later, acknowledging my feelings and then counseling that I let them go. No great harm was done, especially if I used the experience to learn how to avoid making *that* error in the future. The nature of being a clinician and a human being means that I will surely go on to make other errors in my career.

Quidditch: basically Calvin
Ball with brooms

Despite the heat, I had a blast at Camp—which is good, because it was the closest thing I had to an extended summer vacation. My favorite moment from Week 1 was the absolute joy of one of my campers when his house (team) won a round of Quidditch. Apparently that was only the semi-finals, because then he came bounding down the hill again to share that they had won—again!

Another episode that made a big impression on me happened during Week 2, when a large young man on the spectrum threw an epic tantrum over not wanting to take his medication. Now, I completely sympathized with him. It requires a great deal of emotional energy to swallow pills every day of your life. He had reached his breaking point, but he did not have the skills to deal with his frustration and anger in socially acceptable ways. So he yelled, charged at his counselors, overturned trash cans, and tried to swipe everything off the counters in the mess hall. He made a fearsome picture. Being young but well trained, the staff at Camp activated a protocol for such “behaviors” that involved a few counselors providing him space to vent as he wandered about the grounds. At one point he came up to our med table, threw his arms around a camper in our tribe, and sobbed into his shoulder about not wanting to take his meds. It turns out the two had interacted earlier in the week; despite our first impression, the young man was actually a sweetheart, as we got to see later.

It's a snitch!

Between weeks on service I explored nearby Kerrville, Texas, which you can read about in these posts: one, two, and three.

I rather doubt my future residency program will excuse me for a week of vacation next summer, so soon after starting (July 1, 2016), but hopefully every year after that I can return. These are my people! And Camp is a very special place on earth, where campers and volunteers can achieve their maximum potential.

Wheelchair-accessible chapel.

*The word was orange, of course, because it has no rhyme!