36 hours... The scariest

Fourth of July week was with out a doubt the most difficult and exciting to be the medic at camp. It was a real heart pounder.

First of all Mom was supposed to visit, but she didn't and she waited until the last minute to tell me, so I ended up on the hook for the hotel. Thankfully they were really nice about the whole thing and I got to go use the night I had to pay for on Saturday. They had a big whirlpool bath in the room. Very nice... For all that I had a perfectly good bed not ten miles away. Anyway.

Nana got to come and visit for the fourth. She had a terrific time. Very nice and lots of fun for everyone. One Wednesday we did a special ceremony for MIA/POW and as last year I headed that up. It is a tradition I have seen since I was a child and it meant a lot for me to be able to share it with these boys. Many of the adult leaders thanked me throughout the rest of the week for the gesture.

Then came Thursday morning. It started for me at 2:30 AM.

At camp as one of few females I have to be very conscious of what I wear to bed at night. I keep a robe handy. However, sometimes if I have to "go" in the middle of the night, I'll just creep to the bathroom in my camisol and skivvies if the interior door to my building is shut and there is no one around. Like at 2 in the morning. So I popped my head out the door, saw the door was closed and began my creep. That's when I realized two scoutmasters were sitting in the middle of my med lodge. Oops. So after scooting back to my room like a bat out of hell and changing into complete scrubs I had a thirty minute chat with them and the boy they had brought with them. He was essentially home sick, but insisted he had the flu. So we gave him some Sudafed and sent him to bed. No harm no foul except for my wounded pride.

Then at 9 AM I got the emergency call. Someone had been walking across a mock up of a rope bridge or Monkey Bridge as they call it and had fallen. When I got there I found my program director (one of the highest ups at camp) was the one injured. When attempting to walk the bridge he had been spun upside down, piled into the ground and then three 100lb a piece logs had fallen on him. He regained consciousness, but could not remember what happened and could not retain any information we gave him at that point. He repeatedly asked me what happened even though I kept telling him. We had to "package" him in case of spinal injury and called 911. Then Click and I went with them to an emergency room to hear how he was and to wait for his mother. As it turned out it was only (ONLY!!!!) a moderate concussion and essentially mild sprains in his knee and elbow. The staff did an amazing job of handling the emergency and the camp for the most part was unaware of most of what had happened. I've packaged people before, seen worse injuries, but it was strange that this was someone I knew and I was very scared at the time. That is where training is such a good thing, because you are on auto pilot in terms of getting everything done.

When I got back there was a boy waiting for me. His scout master kind of shoved the kid at me and ran. Poor boy had a tick in a very uncomfortable place. When I attempted to remove it, I lost the head and had to go digging for it. Lord have Mercy! So here I am kneeling on the floor, by the gurney with a boy desperately trying to hold his suit low enough for me to get what I need to get to, but high enough to protect some modesty and I had another staff member holding a flashlight over me so I could see to digs the needle and tweezers into this whole mess. I went to bed beyond exhausted that night.

Then next morning after breakfast a scout master came running into medlodge with the two words to stop any medic's heart. Chain Saw! Some poor scout master bumped one into his upper thigh. As it was he was lucky. It was actually mostly superficial. Only (ONLY!!!) 40 stitches and no muscle damage. But for all that at least for a few minutes my heart stopped again.

Come Saturday night that bubble bath felt really good.