my week of camp nursing was great! this was my fifth year of being a camp nurse at a camp for developmentally disabled adults and my 16th year of volunteering. it all started when i was a wee 15 year old; i convinced my sweet friend, amelia, to attend camp with me and my special aunt joanie (joanie is developmentally disabled and looks forward to camp ALL YEAR LONG!). we had the time of our lives. but we were challenged beyond our wildest imaginings. the two of us sweet, little innocent gals ended being responsible for one 21 year old boy. he had down's syndrome and was non-verbal. he required both of our attention for the entire week, and still, we couldn't get him to sleep. and sadly neither of us were sure he had "fun" or benefitted from the experience. but we tried our damndest. the two of us, on the other hand, had monumental, life-changing experiences. despite the sleep deprivation and the changing of adult male diapers, we were hooked. amelia now lives in LA and has a wee-one of her own to care for.
but this year, i had the special privilege of bringing a new friend to camp. marian, a colleague and dear friend of mine from work, braved the world of camp nursing with me. she and i, with the part-time help of two other very experienced nurses, were in charge of doling out hundreds of pills each day - breakfast, lunch, dinner, and bedtime pills. and it was fun to watch her ease into the world of differing abilities and specialness. each day, each med pass, became easier. campers warmed to her bright spirit. and the week was better for me having her there...
"real" nursing returned on monday morning after an emotion-filled and wacky weekend with the beginnings of a cold. blah! and sadly, the sweet 25 year old guy i had taken care of the week prior, the one whose father didn't want me to be off for so many days, had been intubated and placed into one of our intensive care beds. double blah! i knew he was sick; i worried he would not fair well. and although i LOVE being right most of the time, i do not love being right about sad outcomes on my unit.
monday and tuesday i cared for a very unusual patient. somehow, he "lost" his voice. he has cancer. and he's been intubated recently. but every test we did, shoving cameras down his throat, assessing his vocal cords, checking his swallow and gag reflexes, showed nothing abnormal. my patient has an extensive history of drug use and certainly seems to have some mental illness, but this voice business, his quiet whisper slash bark seemed comical to me. he wrote me notes all day and attempted sign language. i made business phone calls for him to strangers in alaska. and we laughed together trying to figure each other out. all in all, it was a fun two days.
but my cold worsened. my nose started to drip while in patients' rooms. i had to sniffle and wipe my face on my sleeve like a four year old child. and i realized, if i truly care for my patients, if i really want to be a good nurse, i must care for myself first. i had to call in sick on wednesday so as not to pass on my cold that for me is benign but for my patients could be deadly. it was a good day off. a nice day to rest, relax, and re-cooperate from camp, life, and work!
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