I had a parent once ask me, “When exactly did you know you wanted to work with kids?” I was up in the activity room at a secure facility for the treatment of adolescents. I was supervising a visit between my kid and their parent. My kid had been talking about England and how she wanted to move there when she grew up. I had to have my input because I spent half of a year there during college. London was and will always be my favorite city in the world. I just knew the reality of today’s world, of her world and mine. I spoke to her in a way that was hopeful and full of positive feedback, I spoke to her in her language. She had to get her ass out of lock up in order to be successful, let alone, move to a foreign country. Then, in true fashion of my approach with kids, I threw in the humor. I asked her what the Loch Ness monster ate? Fish and Ships. She didn’t know that so obviously, she wasn’t ready to move to a foreign country. The mom looked at  me with the eyes of, “Why the fuck are you so weird?” Though she translated it by asking me. “When exactly did you know you wanted to work with kids? I told her I had no idea. I just have always loved kids. Which is true. I was working with kids as a kid. It was my life. I had never thought about it. But I had, I remember the exact moment.

*The names and places of the actual participants and locations have been changed because…obviously.*

When: June 2012

Where: Grey Woods in Southern Indiana 

Why: My ex-girlfriend, at the time, invited me out to the camp she worked at for the summer. The camp was called Grey Forrest. The same camp in which my mother was the Head Nurse that ran the nursing program. Every nurse that worked there was my mother’s subordinate. All the resources that they needed, were allocated from her.

I was (in)famous for four things. Soon to be five. One was the fact my mother ran the program and the next is this story. But I am getting too far ahead.

Week One of Camp House. I probably woke up like I always did at that camp. Nervous, anxious, in dire need of coffee. This camp was, in many ways, a very traditional and typical summer camp. Jeeping in the backwoods, kayaking on the lake, fishing, bonfires and bugs. Bugs everywhere. Camp songs were huge and so was every person’s heart that worked there. The only thing that was different, is these campers were patients at House Children’s Hospital.

The hospital is practically owned by my mother, nowadays, as the Chief Nursing Officer. Back in these days though, my mom was just Camp House’s Nursing Director as well as the Manager of the Heart Unit. Every single nurse there knew exactly who I was. My mother was famous. Everyone loved her and everyone had very high expectations of me. My ex-girlfriend also spoke about me quite often. This morning though, no one knew exactly who I was. I was volunteering for a week to get out of my parent’s house that summer.

6 a.m. It was hot. Over 70 degrees in the early hours.

It was a scorching summer that year. There were ever only two options in that weather. Miss out on the precious six hours of sleep you were lucky to have and shower (we were blessed with AC), or just wait until you got to the pool or lake and call it a day because you were only going to get sweaty anyway. Needless to say, we all smelled a little bit.

6:10 a.m. I was always drawn to stepping outside before starting the 16-18-hour day.

Indiana has some of the best summers. It is something that I will always hold as an important part of growing up in Indiana. You could hear the cicadas already. Loud buggers. This morning though, there was fog and the air was damp and heavy. The sky was pink, yellow and blue. You could smell the woods. The oak and maple trees. The moss on the ground. Everything covered in bug spray and sunscreen. You could hear the squirrels rustling in the trees. It smelled fresh and full of life. Your body encased in the morning dew. The sun peaking through the trees. Anything is possible on an Indiana summer morning.

6:30 a.m. The six or seven staff we had tended to the eight or nine campers. This week was House One. A camp designed for a 1:1 ratio. Diagnosis ran from  Spina Bifida, Muscular Dystrophy, Brittle Bone Disease, Mitochondrial Disease, the list goes on. The kid I was partially in charge of, was named Dominic. He had to be no more than 9 or 10. He had cerebral palsy. Limited communication. He was unable to perform any daily living skills on his own and had a very low range of motion. We were his team. We were there to make that day the best day in his life.

7:45 a.m. Breakfast in the cabin. It only happened once a week. Boxed cereal, bagels, fruit, and juice. Getting the kids fed was our priority. Afterwards I always ate three bagels and a bowl of cereal. Fiber man. We burned an insane number of calories through the day, especially since today was Challenge Day. It was one of the most magical days of the week. We weren’t allowed to say no to our campers.

Whatever they wanted to do that day, we were there to make it happen. They were challenged to push their bodies to the limit, to do something people have told them no or something they have always wanted to do but were afraid they couldn’t. If they wanted to climb Cardio Hill (a hill that went virtually straight up for what felt like a half mile), we climbed it. If they wanted to swim across the lake, we swam it even if their range of motion was zero, we made it happen. They wanted to blow bubbles until they couldn’t anymore? Done. They wanted to build the biggest sand castle? Where’s the water? If they wanted to paint a picture of their favorite character or see how far their wheel chair could recline, we made it happen. Period. Dominic wanted to go to the pool. I put on my swim trunks. (Because I was a butch lesbian in these days. God bless my TRANSformation).

9:00 a.m. Myself and a few other staff went out with our kids. We first went to the sports arena to play with bubbles. That was a goal of one of our other boys. I first noticed things go south with Dominic during this time. Throughout the week, I learned that Dominic was very visually perceptive. He dug bubbles. Just not today.

10:00 a.m. The sun continued to get hotter. It had to be past 80 by that point. We all tried to stay hydrated as best we could but it seemed as soon as we drank a bottle of water, it was already on its way out. Next thing I remember, we are on our way to the pool.

11:00 a.m. We jumped into the pool at first to see if the cold would help improve his mood. It didn’t change. Dominic can’t stop crying. He normally cried but nothing like this. Something was wrong and I knew it. Many others thought it was just the heat. Another Cabin Head told me to take him back to the cabin. I wanted to take him to the nursing office. When she told me no, I overrode her, as a volunteer. Not my best move. I tend to have poor boundaries with authority. They either become my best friends or I completely disregard what they tell me. I also tend to fall for ladies who are authority figures. I digress.

11:15 a.m. I dipped Dominic ’s blanket in the pool, wrapped it around his neck and arms and headed to the nurse’s station. It was one of the few places on campus with AC. Even if I was wrong, we could at least cool off.

We walk inside and I grab one of the nurses. This was an all hands-on camp. The staff were trained in advance first aid, CPR, how to use C-Pap machines, how to work with colostomy bags and how to do feedings. I had no real training at that point.

She taught me how to use and set up a G-tube (basically a feeding tube). I gave him two bottles of Gatorade in the lobby. We sat under the AC and I talked to him about the weather. Though he may have been crying at my awful stories, I’m almost certain he was crying because this wasn’t working.

11:45 a.m. Nurse comes back. She takes his temperature. 100.9. We put cold rags on his forehead, neck, wrists and feet. We had to cool him down.  

12:00 p.m. Dominic fell asleep on the bed we were sent to in a dark, quiet room while we listened to Jack Johnson on Pandora. I think he really liked it. It kept him calm and sleeping.

1:30 p.m. He had been asleep for a solid hour and thirty minutes. Lunch had come and pass. On a selfish note, it was great to be able to spend 1:1 time with a camper away from the crowd. I also could have been happy for the break away from the outdoors. It was enjoyable too after spending at least 9 hours a day outside.

1:45 p.m. He is slowly waking up. The poor kid still looked overheated.

1:55 p.m. He starts whaling. This wasn’t an I’m bored help me cry, this was a, something is wrong please help me cry. (You become fluent in a lot of different languages at this camp). The nurses came in and found me sitting next to him on the bed continually soaking the rags. They recommended an IV, called House Children’s and brought in extra nurses.

1:00 p.m. I sit behind Dominic and hold him up and steady. Tears are streaming down his face, I think I was having a panic attack but had to keep it all on the inside. The next thing I know, Dominic is throwing up on me. Unquestionably a panic attack.

The nurses begin an IV. They tried to stick on the inside of his arm. No luck. They use the back up and try a stick in his hand, no luck. They use the back up’s back up because at this point, I’m covered in throw up, sweat, blood (from him ripping the line out), and tears. Two of those were doubled from me.

1:10 p.m. They stick a needle into his foot. Success. This kid sucked down an entire bag of IV in a little over a half hour. They hooked up another. He was severely dehydrated.

1:15 p.m. They called House Children’s to get permission to bring him in. House sent an ambulance. I stayed with him through the entire thing, even after they sent switch outs for me. I started this, I had to finish.

3:00 p.m. I’m exhausted. I’m still holding him tight so he wouldn’t rip out his IV. The ambulance finally came and they took him away.

3:05 p.m. Walking back through I ran into one of the nurses that I greatly admired. She looked at me and told me that that was badass and patted me on the shoulder. It was one of the cooler moments at nineteen years old. At that point in my life I wanted to work in the health industry. My high school practically prepped me for it. Having a role model that complimented me for something I wanted to do, it was so cool. But I had become undecided  though the moment I jumped up on the bed with Dominic that day.

3:30 p.m. I became dizzy and ran off back to my cabin.

3:40 p.m. I’m pacing back and forth in the cabin, “Was this my fault?” “Did I neglect a kid?” “My life is probably over.” “My mother is going to kill me. I ruined her reputation.” “My life is definitely over.”
I sat down on the back porch.

4:00 p.m. The higher ups sent my ex. Or at least, that is what I remember, she might have texted me. She looked at me and told me I saved a life. I did nothing wrong. I didn’t believe her but it calmed my nerves. She always knew how to do that. Which also was the epitome of our relationship. We worked well and could put a band aid on the problems. We never fixed the root cause of the problem.

5:30 p.m. My cabin head told me the higher ups were talking about it and to get over it, I was going to be fine. Something was brewing in the office.

The day went hour by hour from that point on. I could see people talking. I knew they were talking about me. We all ate dinner, had our last night camp fire. They were all talking.

By 11 p.m. every kid was in bed and settled. Our staff notes and meeting were over. The Cabin Heads all went to their CHIP meeting and two more staff were sleeping with the kids in their side of the cabin. I had a few moments in bed to myself before the sleep took over. You could hear the primary watch staff continually through the night helping the kids. Our work never stopped.

6:00 a.m. the next morning. It was the same type of morning, I woke up tired, nervous, anxious and in dire need of coffee. The air was clean and crisp. The parents were flooding into the camp. We woke up, went to breakfast, and sent our kids off back into the real world. One week always passed like a blink of an eye.

2:00 p.m. It was the end of the day and we began prepping the close of the camp for 36 hours. We sent off the kids, cleaned the cabin, cleaned the property and the offices, and sat down in the breezeway for closing meeting.

My head was in a million different places. I saw my ex for the first time since we had broken up. There was a really cute girl who worked as a lifeguard. I may have let my kid get severely hydrated. I didn’t want to go back to college but I didn’t want to be home. What was my life? I was tuning out of the closing meeting but our boss drew me back in.

“If those of you recall, there was an ambulance yesterday on campus.” Shit. This was it. I’ll be publicly humiliated. I can never come back.

She went on. “Dominic went to the hospital yesterday and was diagnosed with pneumonia. He had a fever of 101 and being in the heat that day only dehydrated him more. Nothing anyone could have done would have stopped this from happening. Be proud of the work you do here.”

3:30 p.m. It wasn’t my fault.

His dad had sent an email explaining that even if this were to happen again next year, he would send him every year because the smile on his face was worth it all. That he would rave to the people he loved about how his kid was taken care of by staff. Not just watched for a week.

3:45 p.m. My boss looked at me, pulled me aside and offered me a job.

Of course, I told her I had to think about it because I couldn’t look desperate and my ex still did work there. It is an extremely personable environment. Even if we weren’t going to date again (which we were spoiler alert) I would have to see her every day for two more months. I called my best friend at the time, who told me if I didn’t take it, I would be a fucking idiot. I called my mother. She also called me a fucking idiot. I walked back inside and sat down at a table full of the people I would create special bonds with that summer.

It was at 4:00 p.m. on a Friday afternoon, in the middle of June, in a small southern Indiana town, that I sat down at a table and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to be with kids at their highest moment of need. I wanted to save lives. I wanted to make a difference. This kid forever changed the course of my life.