Normally that kind of title would be attached to a post about my mom. No such luck this time. This is a post about Camp. Specifically how ridiculous administration, bureaucracy and "quality control" are when it comes to common sense and H1N1... if you don't know what that is, look it up. I'm not going to "say" it.
Apparently a camp somewhere else had a problem with it. Now "they" feel I should "screen" 1000 people a week in three hours for said issue and send people home or make them wear a mask...
Do people not read. This "pandemic" is of less consequence than the typical flu! Now people want to be stupid or better yet proactively moronic about it. Meanwhile seems like some people here might even be seeing dollar signs as groups want to come to our camp rather than the "contaminated" one. But that means we have to appear hyper vigilant and capable of handling this "crisis." Which by the way hasn't even made CNN, but is a big deal... Whatever.
Shame they haven't increased my staff, no matter what I've asked... Shame I never got that new MedLodge no matter how many times promised... Shame this is my last summer. No percentage in staying for crazy behavior... I can get that for free at home and get a better night sleep.
Seriously?
Showing posts with label Camp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Camp. Show all posts
Monday, June 15, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
Moments...
So here I am, my last Week 1 of camp. And I find myself noticing the "moments." You know those instants in time that are special, priceless and become part of you, there whenever you need a smile.
The campfire last night, "That's it! I'm not teaching underwater basket weaving anymore!" and, "I'm sorry, you are just not big enough to fill my scrubs!"
Not to mention breakfast at Miss Meg's (though once we get the adjustment right on the band, that will be gone faster than everything else...) and the tap on my door, "Sandy, can we talk?" Those moments are priceless and irreplacable...
Course, watchin Mark spin himself into the floor and self-centered, self important scout masters... Those are things I won't miss.
The campfire last night, "That's it! I'm not teaching underwater basket weaving anymore!" and, "I'm sorry, you are just not big enough to fill my scrubs!"
Not to mention breakfast at Miss Meg's (though once we get the adjustment right on the band, that will be gone faster than everything else...) and the tap on my door, "Sandy, can we talk?" Those moments are priceless and irreplacable...
Course, watchin Mark spin himself into the floor and self-centered, self important scout masters... Those are things I won't miss.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Camp has started
And so, once again, it begins. I have completely finished my responsibilities at the high school and am now firmly entrenched in what is going to be my final full summer at camp.
Deciding that Camp needed to be a finite experience for me was hard, but I see now that there are other things I need to do and move on to... That's not to say that I won't be back to visit, maybe even do a short stint (a week or two) here or there, but this is the last real thing. I think I'm OK with that, but...
Setting up the clinic, cleaning up, organizing getting ready to accept Homesick and Injured campers (not to mention dealing with the JNROTC cadets who are here for this week... who by the way are whiny wimps!) seemed both satisfying and oddly sad. Saying goodbye to an old friend.
There was one delightful young man who came in explaining about horrific pain in his knee that is now causing back spasms. I asked what he did to injure the knee... He said he didn't know it has hurt for a YEAR! I asked what his physician said. He said that as he has no insurance he has never seen a doctor. While that is possible, how did he get up here to camp without a physical. Anyway, I pointed out to him that I am not a doctor and do not carry an MRI in my pocket. Then we got to the meat of the issue. "Well, can you tell my Gunny I can't run today?" Well now that you mention it, "No, that is something you need to discuss with your Gunny." Seriously these ROTC are just sad. I hope this experience toughens a lot of them up... The came in on the first day and comments were made that my boys were the sissy's, so to speak. Well who can't hack it now!
Yep, Camp has started.
Deciding that Camp needed to be a finite experience for me was hard, but I see now that there are other things I need to do and move on to... That's not to say that I won't be back to visit, maybe even do a short stint (a week or two) here or there, but this is the last real thing. I think I'm OK with that, but...
Setting up the clinic, cleaning up, organizing getting ready to accept Homesick and Injured campers (not to mention dealing with the JNROTC cadets who are here for this week... who by the way are whiny wimps!) seemed both satisfying and oddly sad. Saying goodbye to an old friend.
There was one delightful young man who came in explaining about horrific pain in his knee that is now causing back spasms. I asked what he did to injure the knee... He said he didn't know it has hurt for a YEAR! I asked what his physician said. He said that as he has no insurance he has never seen a doctor. While that is possible, how did he get up here to camp without a physical. Anyway, I pointed out to him that I am not a doctor and do not carry an MRI in my pocket. Then we got to the meat of the issue. "Well, can you tell my Gunny I can't run today?" Well now that you mention it, "No, that is something you need to discuss with your Gunny." Seriously these ROTC are just sad. I hope this experience toughens a lot of them up... The came in on the first day and comments were made that my boys were the sissy's, so to speak. Well who can't hack it now!
Yep, Camp has started.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Last weeks tally
So last week I had...
A kid who threw a knife at a tree. It bounced back and cut him. Go figure.
A kid who got a hole in his head because he got hit by a rock...
They each got two staples a piece.
One poor kid cut his hand on the brand new knife he bought after finishing his toting chip that morning. When he came in his toting chip instructor was up in Medlodge with me... He burst into tears. It wasn't a bad cut, but he learned his lesson. He didn't need a knife in the class he cut himself in, by the way.
Oh! Did I mention on Saturday morning that I woke up to find a camper (18) standing in the middle of my room staring at me? Yeah. He wanted Tylenol. He's lucky he didn't get murdered. There was enough fodder in that moment of waking to fuel nightmares for a week!
The individual I have resigned myself to disliking continues to ask my advice, much to God's amusement I am sure. If I have a well that is continuous, and I have all I want can I turn away someone who is thirsty. Apparently not. But I don't have to like him!
For five years I have done this gig on my own. Two weeks with a real partner and I am terrified about being on my own again for the week. Bet I make it, OK, though. Some of the kids might not...
It's Monday morning and the puking has already begun.
It is worth noting... This summer I am more raw that I have been. Theoretically the protective shield I have hidden behind for so long is falling. That is a good thing, but the skin underneath is so new and delicate. I bleeds. I am trying to navigate all the emotions and it's hard. Other's pain and suffering seems to flow off them like waves and I cry for them. I keep being reassured that this is a good thing, a healing, but then why do I feel so damaged?
A kid who threw a knife at a tree. It bounced back and cut him. Go figure.
A kid who got a hole in his head because he got hit by a rock...
They each got two staples a piece.
One poor kid cut his hand on the brand new knife he bought after finishing his toting chip that morning. When he came in his toting chip instructor was up in Medlodge with me... He burst into tears. It wasn't a bad cut, but he learned his lesson. He didn't need a knife in the class he cut himself in, by the way.
Oh! Did I mention on Saturday morning that I woke up to find a camper (18) standing in the middle of my room staring at me? Yeah. He wanted Tylenol. He's lucky he didn't get murdered. There was enough fodder in that moment of waking to fuel nightmares for a week!
The individual I have resigned myself to disliking continues to ask my advice, much to God's amusement I am sure. If I have a well that is continuous, and I have all I want can I turn away someone who is thirsty. Apparently not. But I don't have to like him!
For five years I have done this gig on my own. Two weeks with a real partner and I am terrified about being on my own again for the week. Bet I make it, OK, though. Some of the kids might not...
It's Monday morning and the puking has already begun.
It is worth noting... This summer I am more raw that I have been. Theoretically the protective shield I have hidden behind for so long is falling. That is a good thing, but the skin underneath is so new and delicate. I bleeds. I am trying to navigate all the emotions and it's hard. Other's pain and suffering seems to flow off them like waves and I cry for them. I keep being reassured that this is a good thing, a healing, but then why do I feel so damaged?
Radio Abuse
Long time ago, when I was a young teacher, I envied the administrators with their two way radios. Maybe it was some kind of police-woman fantasy, but (for lack of a better term) it really turned me on. Ya know?
Six summers at camp tethered to one of those things and, yeah, I'm totally over it.
In my case, campers on radios becomes a singular pain. They think it's funny to spew obsenity and jarring noise for hours.
So last night, or rather, this morning, I "thought" I might have heard the word "emergency." Course with the four and a half hours straight of radio play, who could be sure. I notified the administration and at 0030 hours we had a saftey emergency drill.
While I am pretty sleepy, it is kind of exhilierating to not be the only person kept up all night by that stupid squaking device. Seeing the nodding heads of children at breakfast brought me a perverse joy.
Maybe I like radios after all?
Funny. No one else does anymore...
Six summers at camp tethered to one of those things and, yeah, I'm totally over it.
In my case, campers on radios becomes a singular pain. They think it's funny to spew obsenity and jarring noise for hours.
So last night, or rather, this morning, I "thought" I might have heard the word "emergency." Course with the four and a half hours straight of radio play, who could be sure. I notified the administration and at 0030 hours we had a saftey emergency drill.
While I am pretty sleepy, it is kind of exhilierating to not be the only person kept up all night by that stupid squaking device. Seeing the nodding heads of children at breakfast brought me a perverse joy.
Maybe I like radios after all?
Funny. No one else does anymore...
Dear Mr. Bird.
It is a strange thing for me to actively dislike someone. It really is. For the most part I try hard to see the good and value in someone. It is my firm belief that everyone has a place and purpose in life. There are students I do not care for, but I still love them and in some ways, like them. They are our future after all and by calling or choice, they are my responsibility. There are some people I enjoy being around more than others, there is no denying that. But it is strange for me to actively dislike.
It is true that I dislike you.
While I do believe you have value as a person, I feel that you are often rude, disrespectful and ignorant of those around you. Often I think you make your own life more difficult by your refusal to really look at a situation before you jump to conclusions or more detrimentally open your mouth. You frequently hurt and offend people. While I do not believe it is your actual intention, I think you mistake being disrespectful for commanding respect. It is funny to me that your counterpart is respected for precisely the opposite reason. He thinks before he speaks and is humble. He fosters true loyalty because of that choice.
The irony in all of this is that I still want to help you. Or more specifically, you ask for my help and I am willing to give it. I wonder if that must bother you. It is frustrating to me to help you, because I don't like you, but i still feel obligated to give it. Probably because I do not think you are beyond help or hope... maybe that is a form of affection?
You said I wouldn't ask someone I liked to ask my permission before entering my room. I only demand that of you because I don't like you. Actually that is true. However, I need to also point out that those I like frequently if not always ask permission anyway... So in some ways it isn't true. You see they show me respect, you only do when you need help.
It is my belief that you value my opinion or at least respect it, or you wouldn't ask it... but you only seem to value or respect me whey you need the help, often when there is no one else who would help you, much less advise you... That in itself is a lack of respect. So on that count, then, we are even and maybe you should keep that in mind too...
It is my sincere hope and nightly prayer (seriously) that you improve on your endeavour to be a better person. Your success or failure is not my responsibility but my help is available. Right now, however, my friendship, is not.
And that's just the way it is.
It is true that I dislike you.
While I do believe you have value as a person, I feel that you are often rude, disrespectful and ignorant of those around you. Often I think you make your own life more difficult by your refusal to really look at a situation before you jump to conclusions or more detrimentally open your mouth. You frequently hurt and offend people. While I do not believe it is your actual intention, I think you mistake being disrespectful for commanding respect. It is funny to me that your counterpart is respected for precisely the opposite reason. He thinks before he speaks and is humble. He fosters true loyalty because of that choice.
The irony in all of this is that I still want to help you. Or more specifically, you ask for my help and I am willing to give it. I wonder if that must bother you. It is frustrating to me to help you, because I don't like you, but i still feel obligated to give it. Probably because I do not think you are beyond help or hope... maybe that is a form of affection?
You said I wouldn't ask someone I liked to ask my permission before entering my room. I only demand that of you because I don't like you. Actually that is true. However, I need to also point out that those I like frequently if not always ask permission anyway... So in some ways it isn't true. You see they show me respect, you only do when you need help.
It is my belief that you value my opinion or at least respect it, or you wouldn't ask it... but you only seem to value or respect me whey you need the help, often when there is no one else who would help you, much less advise you... That in itself is a lack of respect. So on that count, then, we are even and maybe you should keep that in mind too...
It is my sincere hope and nightly prayer (seriously) that you improve on your endeavour to be a better person. Your success or failure is not my responsibility but my help is available. Right now, however, my friendship, is not.
And that's just the way it is.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
At least one of the three
For years I have said that our good luck and low injury rate at camp are due to three things (equal parts) 1) Strong Central Leadership, 2) Consistent Quality of Care/Training from MedLodge and 3) Sheer Dumb Luck.
At least one of those three seems to have run out.
Last week a kid tried to get out of a row boat. He did not take out his oar lock first. It ripped open his calf, down to the bone. The staff was very worried about body substance contamination. I told them bleaching the lake was not an option. There were actual "bits" of this kid left on the boat. I am not just talking blood (though God knows there was plenty of that.)
Another kid, a staffer actually, put a hatchet in his shin. Then he refused to follow medical advice about staying off the leg.
Then there was this rash, which I cannot discuss right now as some staff read this, but sufficed to say I itch just thinking about it.
Another kid was hearing voices. Let's leave that there.
I had kids trying to take off fingers, breaking wrists and nosy scout leaders who should be shot.
One kid was caught with dubious pink powder and a snorting straw. That was a nightmare involving the police in two different locations and three counties!
Add in that someone is not turning out to be the leader I expected them to be (not to mention that they dismissed me from a meeting in someone else's office... the nerve!) and you have an interesting summer... Still five weeks to go.
But the light moments are here too. The laughter, the jokes, the talks. Dad came to visit.
I'm making a picture wall in my clinic. I call it "The Wall of Pain."
At least one of those three seems to have run out.
Last week a kid tried to get out of a row boat. He did not take out his oar lock first. It ripped open his calf, down to the bone. The staff was very worried about body substance contamination. I told them bleaching the lake was not an option. There were actual "bits" of this kid left on the boat. I am not just talking blood (though God knows there was plenty of that.)
Another kid, a staffer actually, put a hatchet in his shin. Then he refused to follow medical advice about staying off the leg.
Then there was this rash, which I cannot discuss right now as some staff read this, but sufficed to say I itch just thinking about it.
Another kid was hearing voices. Let's leave that there.
I had kids trying to take off fingers, breaking wrists and nosy scout leaders who should be shot.
One kid was caught with dubious pink powder and a snorting straw. That was a nightmare involving the police in two different locations and three counties!
Add in that someone is not turning out to be the leader I expected them to be (not to mention that they dismissed me from a meeting in someone else's office... the nerve!) and you have an interesting summer... Still five weeks to go.
But the light moments are here too. The laughter, the jokes, the talks. Dad came to visit.
I'm making a picture wall in my clinic. I call it "The Wall of Pain."
Monday, June 09, 2008
God and his sense of humor.
So, on Saturday I had a long talk with my therapist. We discussed that I had really had it with someone.
"I don't like him. I have never liked him, but for the past three years I have tried. I think I can stop trying now. It's not like a wish him ill, I just don't like him. If he was on fire and I was standing there drinking tea I'd throw my tea on him. I'm just not sure I'd go to the faucet to fill up the glass for another toss."
My therapist said it was healthy for me to come to these realizations.
Sunday night, the same person came to me. "Sandy, I think I have a real problem with my anger management. Do you think you can help me?"
So now I am counseling this person to help them function better in the camp/professional environment.
Tell me God is laughing his head off somewhere?
"I don't like him. I have never liked him, but for the past three years I have tried. I think I can stop trying now. It's not like a wish him ill, I just don't like him. If he was on fire and I was standing there drinking tea I'd throw my tea on him. I'm just not sure I'd go to the faucet to fill up the glass for another toss."
My therapist said it was healthy for me to come to these realizations.
Sunday night, the same person came to me. "Sandy, I think I have a real problem with my anger management. Do you think you can help me?"
So now I am counseling this person to help them function better in the camp/professional environment.
Tell me God is laughing his head off somewhere?
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Angry, Frustrated and Dissappointed...
Boys are stupid. OK, that's not fair. There are a big group of boys up here who are stupid though. Like, I want to beat their heads in with shovels, stupid.
Trying to explain would be pointless, tedious and probably boring to the outside observer, but sufficed to say a boy here at camp has managed to prove to me that all the growth I thought I had witnessed recently was almost as big a farce as his actual behavior on Friday. What's worse is that he knows I'm mad and I don't know how to explain this to him.
The good news is though, that I have accepted that I truly dislike someone else on staff after trying for three long years to get along with him. I have decided that is OK. Really.
So I am getting over it.
Trying to explain would be pointless, tedious and probably boring to the outside observer, but sufficed to say a boy here at camp has managed to prove to me that all the growth I thought I had witnessed recently was almost as big a farce as his actual behavior on Friday. What's worse is that he knows I'm mad and I don't know how to explain this to him.
The good news is though, that I have accepted that I truly dislike someone else on staff after trying for three long years to get along with him. I have decided that is OK. Really.
So I am getting over it.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Catching Up
So now I am at camp. Somehow, even with the standard problems, comedy of errors, general stupidity, all the normal stuff that ensues up here, life is better, mountains are more climbable, here at camp, life is good!
So to catch up.
I started having some health issues, but I decided to put off going to see a doctor until I finished the 5K. So I finished the 5K. I came in dead last, lapped by the Biathlon people who started ten minutes later, but I finished. 54 of the longest minutes of my life, but I finished. I will do better next time. The next Tuesday, the diagnosis was Congestive Heart Failure. Panic and Hilarity ensued. However, turns out they were wrong. According to the cardiologist, I'm just fat and need to join Weight Watchers. I hope she never gets sick and scared to death and goes to see someone with as much insensitivity and lack of listening skills like she has. No one deserved the day that was. However, I am resolved. I will speak to my regular doctor this week about Lap Banding. If I have to lose weight for these people to take me seriously about something that I believe is a real problem, then I will. But as least I don't have CHF.
Then there was this beautiful wedding and even more beautiful babies. Life is a beautiful circle.
Nana is settling in well at the personal care home. Apparently she got up in the middle of the night, got dressed, put on her purse and walked out into the living room. While looking for a light switch she pulled the fire alarm. Then when the lady that runs the place came racing up stairs there stood a dark imposing figure in the middle of the room. EEEEP! Nana announced, "I'm ready to go out now." God only knows where she thought she was going. She must have been dreaming.
The next morning she sat down at the kitchen table and cleaned out her purse. Upon finding six one dollar bills she trilled, "Hey girl, lets say us rich bitches go get drunk!" Poor Emma (the lady that runs the house). There is a new woman living there. She doesn't like it. She screams all day. Emma told me that Nana sat with her all afternoon saying, "It really is a very nice place. You'll like it here. Everyone is very nice. I really miss my dogs. My Pipey is so sweet and Roo is so moochie and I really miss them but it really is wonderful here... Please stop screaming."
School ended. And now I am at camp. For the past several months I have been telling them they needed to replace my carpet (seriously gross bio-hazard at this point) with linoleum. I even offered to pay for it. When I got to camp. Still nasty carpet. So I complained again. I was told if I felt that strongly I could just rip up the carpet and have a stone floor. OK. I had the carpet up in less than thirty minutes. I had linoleum in less than 48 hours afterward when they saw what that would look like. Some people learned some valuable lessons about daring me to do anything.
As I type these delightful men are fixing my air conditioning. I have never started camp with a working air conditioner. But this may be the fastest I ever got it fixed. Might have to do with the fact that it will be 95 degrees up here on Thursday during inspection (according to the weather report).
This summer I find I am in love with Tea. A good dear friend totally got me hooked on the tea experience and seeing as I am trying to avoid the caffeine rush that can be coffee, the tea thing is good. Jasmine Pearls with Roobius is my favorite, but I found the most delightful iced...
My Daddy is coming up next week and I cannot wait!
So, that's where it is.
Oh! This year our radio names at camp are video games. I am Zelda... You got to go through several levels to get me...
*wink*
So to catch up.
I started having some health issues, but I decided to put off going to see a doctor until I finished the 5K. So I finished the 5K. I came in dead last, lapped by the Biathlon people who started ten minutes later, but I finished. 54 of the longest minutes of my life, but I finished. I will do better next time. The next Tuesday, the diagnosis was Congestive Heart Failure. Panic and Hilarity ensued. However, turns out they were wrong. According to the cardiologist, I'm just fat and need to join Weight Watchers. I hope she never gets sick and scared to death and goes to see someone with as much insensitivity and lack of listening skills like she has. No one deserved the day that was. However, I am resolved. I will speak to my regular doctor this week about Lap Banding. If I have to lose weight for these people to take me seriously about something that I believe is a real problem, then I will. But as least I don't have CHF.
Then there was this beautiful wedding and even more beautiful babies. Life is a beautiful circle.
Nana is settling in well at the personal care home. Apparently she got up in the middle of the night, got dressed, put on her purse and walked out into the living room. While looking for a light switch she pulled the fire alarm. Then when the lady that runs the place came racing up stairs there stood a dark imposing figure in the middle of the room. EEEEP! Nana announced, "I'm ready to go out now." God only knows where she thought she was going. She must have been dreaming.
The next morning she sat down at the kitchen table and cleaned out her purse. Upon finding six one dollar bills she trilled, "Hey girl, lets say us rich bitches go get drunk!" Poor Emma (the lady that runs the house). There is a new woman living there. She doesn't like it. She screams all day. Emma told me that Nana sat with her all afternoon saying, "It really is a very nice place. You'll like it here. Everyone is very nice. I really miss my dogs. My Pipey is so sweet and Roo is so moochie and I really miss them but it really is wonderful here... Please stop screaming."
School ended. And now I am at camp. For the past several months I have been telling them they needed to replace my carpet (seriously gross bio-hazard at this point) with linoleum. I even offered to pay for it. When I got to camp. Still nasty carpet. So I complained again. I was told if I felt that strongly I could just rip up the carpet and have a stone floor. OK. I had the carpet up in less than thirty minutes. I had linoleum in less than 48 hours afterward when they saw what that would look like. Some people learned some valuable lessons about daring me to do anything.
As I type these delightful men are fixing my air conditioning. I have never started camp with a working air conditioner. But this may be the fastest I ever got it fixed. Might have to do with the fact that it will be 95 degrees up here on Thursday during inspection (according to the weather report).
This summer I find I am in love with Tea. A good dear friend totally got me hooked on the tea experience and seeing as I am trying to avoid the caffeine rush that can be coffee, the tea thing is good. Jasmine Pearls with Roobius is my favorite, but I found the most delightful iced...
My Daddy is coming up next week and I cannot wait!
So, that's where it is.
Oh! This year our radio names at camp are video games. I am Zelda... You got to go through several levels to get me...
*wink*
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Taking One for the Team
My dad called to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. As we talked a while, he asked me what was wrong. Daddy's always know, I guess. Because I am doing better, I have a lot to be thankful for and I'm being made to see what terrific friends I have in the face of a huge betrayal, but I am not exactly OK, yet. Daddies always know.
So I told him. We talked. Dad said I shouldn't have to work with someone who treated me that way. He said I didn't have to take one for the team this time.
He told me a story about a woman he knows. Her son had several friends growing up. They had sleep overs at her house, she knew their parents, fed them, picked them up from things. As teenagers they broke into her house and robbed her. This happened many years ago and Dad said he could still hear true pain in her voice when she told the story.
The young man who hurt me is an Eagle Scout. I am ashamed to say that, as I don't want his actions to sully the accomplishments and honor of the others that I know that hold that distinction... And the hundreds I don't know who I am confidant are honorable young men. He had eaten at my table, slept on my floor, I had gone to his Eagle ceremony, had dinner with his parents, I had cared for this kid when he was injured.
He is on staff at camp. This year he is going to be the director of a very important new department. Theoretically I won't see him much, but, as the safety officer I will cross paths with him.
Several of the guys have said to forget about it, to focus on the other guys who are wonderful, who love me, and the good things about camp. They are right. That's what I should do, what I will do, what I want to do, but I keep thinking about what Dad said, about taking one for the team.
There is something I could do. I could write a letter, to the head of the people that run camp and explain that I am not comfortable with that person anymore and why. In the past, there have been people who said, "If they come back to camp, I go." I hate those people, and I don't want to be like that. Then I think about what Dad said and taking one for the team. I'm not sure what to do.
This weekend a friend and I talked about how I would react to someone hurting me. We were talking about something that happened to someone else and how they fought back. I said, "If that had been me, I'd have just gone home and felt small, and let it be." and she said she wasn't sure that was true, and then I said, "You don't think I would have just taken it?" and she answered, "Well, if it had been some one else, you would have fought to defend them, but if it was you, just you, maybe you would have just taken it..." Lately I have been working on standing up for myself. Especially with my mom, but more than that.
The question I keep asking is how much is necessary. Is waiting to see what happens, and there may be more that happens that has nothing to do with me, is waiting and/or not doing anything at all "Taking One for the Team." What constitutes standing up for myself that I haven't already done.
How can I be so thankful for so much, be so happy with so much, have so many people who do care about me and I love them for it, love them regardless, and still be hurt enough after forty-eight hours that my dad could hear it in just my voice even though I am sick and my voice sounds funny anyway.
I told my Dad by the time school started on Monday I would be fine. I mean that.
I will be.
So I told him. We talked. Dad said I shouldn't have to work with someone who treated me that way. He said I didn't have to take one for the team this time.
He told me a story about a woman he knows. Her son had several friends growing up. They had sleep overs at her house, she knew their parents, fed them, picked them up from things. As teenagers they broke into her house and robbed her. This happened many years ago and Dad said he could still hear true pain in her voice when she told the story.
The young man who hurt me is an Eagle Scout. I am ashamed to say that, as I don't want his actions to sully the accomplishments and honor of the others that I know that hold that distinction... And the hundreds I don't know who I am confidant are honorable young men. He had eaten at my table, slept on my floor, I had gone to his Eagle ceremony, had dinner with his parents, I had cared for this kid when he was injured.
He is on staff at camp. This year he is going to be the director of a very important new department. Theoretically I won't see him much, but, as the safety officer I will cross paths with him.
Several of the guys have said to forget about it, to focus on the other guys who are wonderful, who love me, and the good things about camp. They are right. That's what I should do, what I will do, what I want to do, but I keep thinking about what Dad said, about taking one for the team.
There is something I could do. I could write a letter, to the head of the people that run camp and explain that I am not comfortable with that person anymore and why. In the past, there have been people who said, "If they come back to camp, I go." I hate those people, and I don't want to be like that. Then I think about what Dad said and taking one for the team. I'm not sure what to do.
This weekend a friend and I talked about how I would react to someone hurting me. We were talking about something that happened to someone else and how they fought back. I said, "If that had been me, I'd have just gone home and felt small, and let it be." and she said she wasn't sure that was true, and then I said, "You don't think I would have just taken it?" and she answered, "Well, if it had been some one else, you would have fought to defend them, but if it was you, just you, maybe you would have just taken it..." Lately I have been working on standing up for myself. Especially with my mom, but more than that.
The question I keep asking is how much is necessary. Is waiting to see what happens, and there may be more that happens that has nothing to do with me, is waiting and/or not doing anything at all "Taking One for the Team." What constitutes standing up for myself that I haven't already done.
How can I be so thankful for so much, be so happy with so much, have so many people who do care about me and I love them for it, love them regardless, and still be hurt enough after forty-eight hours that my dad could hear it in just my voice even though I am sick and my voice sounds funny anyway.
I told my Dad by the time school started on Monday I would be fine. I mean that.
I will be.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Not Safe
This past weekend was so wonderful. I came home feeling refreshed, excited and energized.
Now I feel violated and humiliated.
Facebook was something I always heard about, but wasn't really part of. Recently I got on it so I could keep track of a lot of the young people in my life and have a place to post pictures.
Someone, who I know through camp, thought it would be funny to post a picture of a whale lying on top of a person and say that it was a picture of me and another friend of mine (male) having sex. Several of my other friends pointed out that this was not really a funny joke and it should be taken down. It's been up nearly a week. The "photographer" has said to several people it's just a joke, all in good fun...
More than anything I am hurt. Not because of the implication that I have a sexual relationship with someone I don't. He and I flirt and are both comfortable with what our relationship is, so what's the point... It's the whale thing.
That is just cruel and unnessesary and it's not funny. Definately not something you do to friends.
Subsequently I have removed them from my friends list and blocked them. There is nothing else I want to talk to them about. Ever. True, they work at camp, but we are in different areas, and I just don't choose to have anything to do with someone who would do something like that, and further refuse to accept rebuke (by others, not even me, I have said nothing) and take it down. Maybe some of us make mistakes, but we correct them or appologize...
Worst, I hate like feeling a kintegartener sitting by myself in the sand box crying.
I went from feeling warm and loved yesterday to feeling unsafe today.
Not good, not fun, not right.
Now I feel violated and humiliated.
Facebook was something I always heard about, but wasn't really part of. Recently I got on it so I could keep track of a lot of the young people in my life and have a place to post pictures.
Someone, who I know through camp, thought it would be funny to post a picture of a whale lying on top of a person and say that it was a picture of me and another friend of mine (male) having sex. Several of my other friends pointed out that this was not really a funny joke and it should be taken down. It's been up nearly a week. The "photographer" has said to several people it's just a joke, all in good fun...
More than anything I am hurt. Not because of the implication that I have a sexual relationship with someone I don't. He and I flirt and are both comfortable with what our relationship is, so what's the point... It's the whale thing.
That is just cruel and unnessesary and it's not funny. Definately not something you do to friends.
Subsequently I have removed them from my friends list and blocked them. There is nothing else I want to talk to them about. Ever. True, they work at camp, but we are in different areas, and I just don't choose to have anything to do with someone who would do something like that, and further refuse to accept rebuke (by others, not even me, I have said nothing) and take it down. Maybe some of us make mistakes, but we correct them or appologize...
Worst, I hate like feeling a kintegartener sitting by myself in the sand box crying.
I went from feeling warm and loved yesterday to feeling unsafe today.
Not good, not fun, not right.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Mice, Mayor's and Daylight Savings Time
Yesterday I took the dogs to the kennel/groomer as they had to be there today between 8 and 9 AM for their annual grooming (I may love 'em but they have SO MUCH HAIR!!!) as they can get a bit matted this time of year without a little help. They went last night as there was no way I could get then there in that window this morning, so I simply boarded them so they would be there in the morning (Don't I sound decadent, jaded and spoiled?) The point is, they weren't home last night. It was a bit odd without them and Nana especially was seriously out of whack.
This afternoon, after getting back from all my morning appointments, I happened to notice Roo's water dish in the corner of my room. There was a dead mouse floating in the bowl. EEEP! Poor thing. It's hair was still dry and fluffy above the water, but it was quite dead. Nana saw me throw it away and became obsessed with the issue. She has announced that there is another one, "looking for it's mama," in the living room that apparently has run all over, only when I was not in the room. She's been talking to it all afternoon. I have no idea if that's her way of compensating for the loss of the dogs for the day...
The whole thing made me think of that joke about the mouse that fell into the bowl of cream. The mouse just kept paddling until it churned the cream into butter and then it was able climb out.
Further, I emailed a newer friend today and asked about their business e-mail address. They said it was OK as long as I didn't send anything I wouldn't send to the mayor... or anything a normal person would wouldn't send to a mayor, but I'm definitely not normal so... Poor person, they only just met me and I think they got my number, I am definitely not normal... but they should also be warned, they might be mortified to know what I could send to a mayor considering the X-mas present I gave to Mark, the summer before last (I think there is a blog about that some where back about it, Christmas in July, not for the easily offended).
Lastly, today is the last day of Daylight Savings. It's not that I am sensitive (well, I am, actually, but not about this kind of stuff...) or that it matters, but I so wanted to find that jerk from my WEMT class and point out to him that I was right! And no, it's not just the way of the south, but everyone in America has the new DST time! No, I'm not bitter at all.
Oh and having retrieved the dogs, looking much thinner with all the "dead hair" brushed out, and exhausted for their journey, Nana is admonishing them to swiftly excise the dreaded mouse (oh how soon she forgets the four footed furry thing that was her company all day in the light of her old friends... fickle, fickle old woman.)
Actually this past summer there was this mouse in my clinic and I could not catch it. The Director of the Nature Lodge said smart people get smart mice... now my mice are drowning themselves and hanging out with Nana... does that mean I'm not so smart anymore, suicidal or senile? Who knows. Maybe I should start putting cream in Roo's water dish.
I'm seriously going to revel in that extra hour of sleep (I think I have it coming!) tonight. It might almost make up for having to do children's musical rehearsal tomorrow after church.
Now, should I send this blog to the Mayor?
This afternoon, after getting back from all my morning appointments, I happened to notice Roo's water dish in the corner of my room. There was a dead mouse floating in the bowl. EEEP! Poor thing. It's hair was still dry and fluffy above the water, but it was quite dead. Nana saw me throw it away and became obsessed with the issue. She has announced that there is another one, "looking for it's mama," in the living room that apparently has run all over, only when I was not in the room. She's been talking to it all afternoon. I have no idea if that's her way of compensating for the loss of the dogs for the day...
The whole thing made me think of that joke about the mouse that fell into the bowl of cream. The mouse just kept paddling until it churned the cream into butter and then it was able climb out.
Further, I emailed a newer friend today and asked about their business e-mail address. They said it was OK as long as I didn't send anything I wouldn't send to the mayor... or anything a normal person would wouldn't send to a mayor, but I'm definitely not normal so... Poor person, they only just met me and I think they got my number, I am definitely not normal... but they should also be warned, they might be mortified to know what I could send to a mayor considering the X-mas present I gave to Mark, the summer before last (I think there is a blog about that some where back about it, Christmas in July, not for the easily offended).
Lastly, today is the last day of Daylight Savings. It's not that I am sensitive (well, I am, actually, but not about this kind of stuff...) or that it matters, but I so wanted to find that jerk from my WEMT class and point out to him that I was right! And no, it's not just the way of the south, but everyone in America has the new DST time! No, I'm not bitter at all.
Oh and having retrieved the dogs, looking much thinner with all the "dead hair" brushed out, and exhausted for their journey, Nana is admonishing them to swiftly excise the dreaded mouse (oh how soon she forgets the four footed furry thing that was her company all day in the light of her old friends... fickle, fickle old woman.)
Actually this past summer there was this mouse in my clinic and I could not catch it. The Director of the Nature Lodge said smart people get smart mice... now my mice are drowning themselves and hanging out with Nana... does that mean I'm not so smart anymore, suicidal or senile? Who knows. Maybe I should start putting cream in Roo's water dish.
I'm seriously going to revel in that extra hour of sleep (I think I have it coming!) tonight. It might almost make up for having to do children's musical rehearsal tomorrow after church.
Now, should I send this blog to the Mayor?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Miss You
It is Thursday and I am back to being a responsible adult in education. But as I look around and work on classrooms and lesson plans, I miss them
I miss the "Sandy, can we talk?" I miss the knocks on the door, the sound of shuffling feet. I miss the requests for a shoulder rub and most of all I miss the banter.
I miss Randy, Sunshine, Danny, Batch, Mark, Diamond, Charles, Matt B, Kastner, Drew, Jason, all the Josh's, Amanda, Sam, Papesh, and Mike.
It's funny how much I miss them. The rules are very clear too, we don't call, write or e-mail unless it is about camp and specific to camp... That's months away...
The power some of these boys/men have to make me feel important, connected and whole is amazing. The ways they can confuse and wound me is equally impressive. I haven't decided for sure what makes it the experience it is. It is so difficult to explain.
Whatever, this evening, as I sit in my living room, hacking up a lung from Bronchitis... thanks for that by the way, and you know who you are... getting ready for bed and planning my day tomorrow, I miss them....
If you are reading, I miss you, all, a lot. I miss feeling like I really matter. Sometimes I only feel like that when I'm with you...
I miss the "Sandy, can we talk?" I miss the knocks on the door, the sound of shuffling feet. I miss the requests for a shoulder rub and most of all I miss the banter.
I miss Randy, Sunshine, Danny, Batch, Mark, Diamond, Charles, Matt B, Kastner, Drew, Jason, all the Josh's, Amanda, Sam, Papesh, and Mike.
It's funny how much I miss them. The rules are very clear too, we don't call, write or e-mail unless it is about camp and specific to camp... That's months away...
The power some of these boys/men have to make me feel important, connected and whole is amazing. The ways they can confuse and wound me is equally impressive. I haven't decided for sure what makes it the experience it is. It is so difficult to explain.
Whatever, this evening, as I sit in my living room, hacking up a lung from Bronchitis... thanks for that by the way, and you know who you are... getting ready for bed and planning my day tomorrow, I miss them....
If you are reading, I miss you, all, a lot. I miss feeling like I really matter. Sometimes I only feel like that when I'm with you...
Monday, July 23, 2007
My Secret
In the past five summers, I've seen a lot of the boys at camp asleep.
I love this group, mostly because they are so "in between" what they were and what they will be. Watching the shift is a unequaled joy in my life.
When they sleep, I see what they were. They all look like sweet little boys, flushed with sleep and often smiling.
Then when they are waking up, often in the half light, I see a glimpse of what they will become. The determination, honor and courage of men.
It makes it all worth it.
I love this group, mostly because they are so "in between" what they were and what they will be. Watching the shift is a unequaled joy in my life.
When they sleep, I see what they were. They all look like sweet little boys, flushed with sleep and often smiling.
Then when they are waking up, often in the half light, I see a glimpse of what they will become. The determination, honor and courage of men.
It makes it all worth it.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Sticks and Stones
I had a friend who used to say you could call him stupid, but never a fool. Had another who used to say you could call her witch, but never the other word that sound similar.
Apparently I've got a couple of words I don't accept either.
But they are just words, right? Why does it matter so much?
I honestly don't know.
But apparently, they do.
Apparently I've got a couple of words I don't accept either.
But they are just words, right? Why does it matter so much?
I honestly don't know.
But apparently, they do.
Emergency Rooms
All I'm saying is that if I have to spend another afternoon/evening in an emergency room this week I may go a little insane. Two in two days is my limit!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Quickie: Finger Carving Merit Badge
It is always my prerogative and honor to give out the Finger Carving Merit Badge at Friday Night Campfire each week. I look at all the injuries over the week and I look to see if any (and there can be more than one) were particularly bad, funny or unique. Sometimes it is not a finger and there is no knife, so I come up with a different name.
One child got, "It's just a flesh wound" because we could not get this rather shallow head laceration to quit spurting blood like a fountain. Seriously (and no it wasn't arterial, he just had high blood pressure or something.)
One child got, "The Stoic Award!" That kid was funny. He came in because his arm kinda hurt, but on a scale of 1 to 10 it was only a 1. Eventually I got him to go up to 2. We took him in anyway. It was broken in three places. What happened in this kid's life that this was only a 2?
This week's camper finger carving merit badge went to a kid who did not get stitches. That's because there was nothing to sew anything to. Just a big long slice down his pointer finger. It took forever to get that thing to stop!
There were two staff Finger Carvers, however. One was (and I am not making this up!) sitting on the toilet, he got bored and decided to carve on his walking stick and sliced open his finger. He waited until he finished, cleaned up and then got his pants up before he called me. I was flattered for the courtesy.
The other one is for the third (!) handi-craft staff member who has attempted to take a finger off. What is with these people! They are the ones who teach wood-carving. One was the director and the other was his assistant.
I really aught to become a PA so I can stitch them up myself. I could charge and I think I could turn a profit!
Last week of camp. Anything could happen!
One child got, "It's just a flesh wound" because we could not get this rather shallow head laceration to quit spurting blood like a fountain. Seriously (and no it wasn't arterial, he just had high blood pressure or something.)
One child got, "The Stoic Award!" That kid was funny. He came in because his arm kinda hurt, but on a scale of 1 to 10 it was only a 1. Eventually I got him to go up to 2. We took him in anyway. It was broken in three places. What happened in this kid's life that this was only a 2?
This week's camper finger carving merit badge went to a kid who did not get stitches. That's because there was nothing to sew anything to. Just a big long slice down his pointer finger. It took forever to get that thing to stop!
There were two staff Finger Carvers, however. One was (and I am not making this up!) sitting on the toilet, he got bored and decided to carve on his walking stick and sliced open his finger. He waited until he finished, cleaned up and then got his pants up before he called me. I was flattered for the courtesy.
The other one is for the third (!) handi-craft staff member who has attempted to take a finger off. What is with these people! They are the ones who teach wood-carving. One was the director and the other was his assistant.
I really aught to become a PA so I can stitch them up myself. I could charge and I think I could turn a profit!
Last week of camp. Anything could happen!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
The Boys of Summer 2007
There is a button, that some people in Scout wear, that says, "I'm here for the boys." I don't wear this button for all that it is rather my truth because, well, people would misunderstand.
But I am here for the boys. Let me tell you about some of them. (Some are ones you have heard about before, and some are new.)
Batch. Batch is 22 and studying to be a geologist. Very bright boy. Also one of the singularly most emotionally aware young men I have met in some time. He sees people, though granted he has to be paying attention, and he knows them. He is not afraid of his feelings or any one else's. He might have been one of my saving graces this summer.
Dr. Nichols. Not really a doctor, he's only 17, but we call him that. Such an earnest young man and a very hard worker. There is something in his speech and demeanor that reminds me of the dentist elf on Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer, but in a good way. He's just a big teddy bear sort too.
Ethan. Also a big bear. Big soft deep voice. He made me a canoe on the first week of camp. Just a little one, mind you, but it was very sweet. He has soft eyes and a kind smile and he actually wrestled the Chaplin to the ground when I jokingly suggested it. Then I had to apologize to the Chaplin (a good friend of mine... so it was OK!)
Sunshine. Now here is a young man worth watching. Starting his senior year in HS, already accepted to the Citadel, but hoping to go to the Coast Guard Academy, Sunshine is probably one of the camp's best imports. He's from Florida. Maybe the soft spot I have from him is the military background (he's a brat like me) or the clean cut, respectful way he conducts himself all the time. The way he demures about his girlfriend is pretty sweet... And when several annoying staff offered to take him to a strip club for his 18th birthday he said "no!" Last year Sunshine got very sick and spent several days up here in Medlodge with me. Poor boy was quite ill. But always polite and said please every time. Also a terrific teacher.
Danny. I've known Danny since his first year at camp as a CIT (counselor in training) and am so proud to now watch him direct his own department. He was grown at 15, but he's even more a real example of maturity now at 18. I "let" him take me "out" one night, on my night off. One of the nicer dates I think I've had in some time. Makes me wish I was 18... and shorter. Danny starts college this year and I wish him all the best. There is a very special girl out there for him somewhere and I can't wait to meet her too. Oh! He plays the banjo and speaks French!
Drew is becoming a really good friend. The shooting sports director this year, he has done great things on staff. My brother calls him the bad boy with the heart of gold. Nana is in love with him. I joke that I am not his type because I have morals. Yet he is the first to come to my rescue often times and a very fierce protector at that. He has a huge albino python called princess and I am desperately trying to catch the mouse in Med Lodge so he can feed it to her. Also, I fixed him up with Rosie, my hairdresser and friend. Fingers Crossed!
Matt. Here is a very sweet young man. Only 15 and new to camp. Such a hard worker though. If he hugs me one more time with a wet rain jacket I may kill him. But still very sweet. His mom is a professor and only slightly older than I am. He asked me the first day of camp (and remember he is only 15) which branch of medicine he should go into, in my opinion. Very seriously, I might add.
Poje. He's 18 this year. Still every inch the spunky, smart-mouth little brother, but I am starting to get glimpses of the man I think he really will be. He completed his Eagle this summer and I am very proud of him. He starts college this year too. Valdosta may never be the same.
Mike and Jason. The Eagle brothers. One runs camp, the other runs the kitchen. Both are forces to be reckoned with when they are mad. It's the Irish temper thing. Mike has really become one of my best friends over the past year. I have enormous respect for both of these young men. Sometimes I even am nice to them... Mostly I just sass them because I can.
This list is by no means exhaustive and there are so many more, but these are the ones that came to mind.
They are my boys.
But I am here for the boys. Let me tell you about some of them. (Some are ones you have heard about before, and some are new.)
Batch. Batch is 22 and studying to be a geologist. Very bright boy. Also one of the singularly most emotionally aware young men I have met in some time. He sees people, though granted he has to be paying attention, and he knows them. He is not afraid of his feelings or any one else's. He might have been one of my saving graces this summer.
Dr. Nichols. Not really a doctor, he's only 17, but we call him that. Such an earnest young man and a very hard worker. There is something in his speech and demeanor that reminds me of the dentist elf on Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer, but in a good way. He's just a big teddy bear sort too.
Ethan. Also a big bear. Big soft deep voice. He made me a canoe on the first week of camp. Just a little one, mind you, but it was very sweet. He has soft eyes and a kind smile and he actually wrestled the Chaplin to the ground when I jokingly suggested it. Then I had to apologize to the Chaplin (a good friend of mine... so it was OK!)
Sunshine. Now here is a young man worth watching. Starting his senior year in HS, already accepted to the Citadel, but hoping to go to the Coast Guard Academy, Sunshine is probably one of the camp's best imports. He's from Florida. Maybe the soft spot I have from him is the military background (he's a brat like me) or the clean cut, respectful way he conducts himself all the time. The way he demures about his girlfriend is pretty sweet... And when several annoying staff offered to take him to a strip club for his 18th birthday he said "no!" Last year Sunshine got very sick and spent several days up here in Medlodge with me. Poor boy was quite ill. But always polite and said please every time. Also a terrific teacher.
Danny. I've known Danny since his first year at camp as a CIT (counselor in training) and am so proud to now watch him direct his own department. He was grown at 15, but he's even more a real example of maturity now at 18. I "let" him take me "out" one night, on my night off. One of the nicer dates I think I've had in some time. Makes me wish I was 18... and shorter. Danny starts college this year and I wish him all the best. There is a very special girl out there for him somewhere and I can't wait to meet her too. Oh! He plays the banjo and speaks French!
Drew is becoming a really good friend. The shooting sports director this year, he has done great things on staff. My brother calls him the bad boy with the heart of gold. Nana is in love with him. I joke that I am not his type because I have morals. Yet he is the first to come to my rescue often times and a very fierce protector at that. He has a huge albino python called princess and I am desperately trying to catch the mouse in Med Lodge so he can feed it to her. Also, I fixed him up with Rosie, my hairdresser and friend. Fingers Crossed!
Matt. Here is a very sweet young man. Only 15 and new to camp. Such a hard worker though. If he hugs me one more time with a wet rain jacket I may kill him. But still very sweet. His mom is a professor and only slightly older than I am. He asked me the first day of camp (and remember he is only 15) which branch of medicine he should go into, in my opinion. Very seriously, I might add.
Poje. He's 18 this year. Still every inch the spunky, smart-mouth little brother, but I am starting to get glimpses of the man I think he really will be. He completed his Eagle this summer and I am very proud of him. He starts college this year too. Valdosta may never be the same.
Mike and Jason. The Eagle brothers. One runs camp, the other runs the kitchen. Both are forces to be reckoned with when they are mad. It's the Irish temper thing. Mike has really become one of my best friends over the past year. I have enormous respect for both of these young men. Sometimes I even am nice to them... Mostly I just sass them because I can.
This list is by no means exhaustive and there are so many more, but these are the ones that came to mind.
They are my boys.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
The Fourth
My heart swells with pride on The Fourth of July.
Yesterday I oversaw an Eagle Honor Court POW MIA ceremony in the Dining Hall and this evening I am singing America the Beautiful with one of the young men (a vocal performance major and quite the baritone!) from camp.
My family has invested itself completely, one way or another in this country and as always I am so proud to be an American.
Especially today!
Yesterday I oversaw an Eagle Honor Court POW MIA ceremony in the Dining Hall and this evening I am singing America the Beautiful with one of the young men (a vocal performance major and quite the baritone!) from camp.
My family has invested itself completely, one way or another in this country and as always I am so proud to be an American.
Especially today!
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