In case you were bored: this is my narrative speech for englishLying there in the dark, listening to her labored breathing, I wondered how in the world I had ended up there, somehow in charge of this ten year old girl’s fragile life.
It all started with a small suggestion from a friend. "Hey do you want to counsel at Camp Superstuff with me this summer?" It sounded simple enough right? Spend a weekend in the mountains corralling a few kiddies and nab some bonus community service hours- it was cake. Let me explain a little something to you about Camp Superstuff. You see, Camp Superstuff isn’t just any ordinary summer camp. Camp Superstuff is also spoken of fondly as Asthma Camp- it’s a weekend entirely devoted to educating and entertaining asthmatic children ages six to twelve. Like most people on the planet, I found the idea kind of dorky. A camp for sick kids? What exactly can they do if they can’t run around?
What I came to find out, during that fateful weekend at Lassen Pines, was that these children have a bond, a bond closer than that of siblinghood, a bond closer than that of friendship, it was a bond of understanding circumstances.
Upon my arrival, I was excited to meet all of the staff members I would be working with for the next few days. All of them were very nice. Some were doctors, many were nurses, and the rest were just teens like me. We played a few cheesy "get to know ya" games, followed by more cheesy leadership and group building games. Although many were returning members of the staff, we took a tour around the facility and reviewed rules and regulations. Being as these are "special" children there was quite an extensive set of medical procedures to go over and a few insurance forms to peruse. Though the never ending list of what-if’s seemed daunting I wasn’t worried, I had two other counselors in my cabin, one was a nurse and one would soon become one, so what did I have to worry about?
What I didn’t happen to notice during this little session was that I was the only person on the entire staff that did not suffer from asthma, and while it didn’t seem important to me, it was the short straw that would matter most in the end.
Sometime shortly before eleven o’clock in the morning our campers began to arrive. Some came in buses, some in cars, some seemed to pop up out of no where, as if they’d been there all their lives just hiding in the grass. As a few wrangled up lunch, the rest of us organized some moderately active games out in the field. I had somehow managed to rally up my group of eight 10 year old girls and all of their luggage without any mishaps so I was feeling pretty confident in my ability to lead a small army. And it was then that the boom hit.
Now I don’t know how much education the rest of you have about lice, but at the time all I knew was that it made your head itch and as far as I was concerned people didn’t really get it anymore, I related it closely to the measles. So when itty bitty Sarah began to scratch her head I didn’t think twice about having it checked
A few hours later a co-counselor of mine, the nurse I mentioned earlier, came to wonder about little Sarah as well. Sarah was one of our low-income campers. Being as this camp is put on by the American Lung Association they pride themselves in never turning a camper away for financial reasons, though I think they should have added a disclaimer about communicable diseases and head lice. After it was confirmed that skinny Sarah was in fact our cabins "lice girl" they whisked her to the med cabin and lathered her with some special chemicals.
ISarah returned to the cabin to set up her things nearly an hour later, and with her followed quite the stench. I didn’t know that little lice have sensitive noses but obviously that is the case or else why would the only thing that drives them away be so putrid? I’m one tough cookie, and I can stand salon-smell but what you may not be thinking about is the chemical factor. Chemicals, such as those found in lice rinses, trigger asthma symptoms: Shortness of breath, Hyperventilation, Lack of air flow. Panic arises when one by one my girls are dropping like flies, and not only them but my co-counselors as well. As they start to flip out so do I. I may have been the only one in the cabin that was able to breath normally but that didn’t mean I was prepared to escort seven campers and two counselors to the med cabin, while at the same time calming down lice girl who also can’t breath, but can’t escape. They had to clear out, and air out, our entire cabin of girls and move them into a vacant cabin. All of the girls, except of course me and slender Sarah. She’s crying, she’s having trouble breathing, and she’s expecting me to make it all better.
We spend a chilly night silent, on opposite ends of the now seemingly enormous cabin. I’m too young and inexperienced to know how to make it all better. She’s to young and ashamed to admit how traumatized she is. Morning seems to approach a lot slower when your trying to stay awake, making sure a fragile girl is still breathing.
You think you can predict how a gaggle of preteens will react to a low income scrawny girl with lice. I figured she would be left out the entire weekend. Ostracized for her differences, her lack of perfection I remembered back to my fifth grade year and hung my head knowing how many girls had not been nice to outcast classmates.
Morning came, and with morning breakfast. And for my slim Sarah a relieving hair rinse. After freeing her from her chemical prison, she and I skipped off to breakfast, to an alarming display of character. My girls latched on to Sarah as if she was a princess. They complimented her outfit, shared their cinnamon rolls, and practically toppled over each other to sit by her and be her best friend. Turns out they felt so bad for having to leave her alone that they thought they would over compensate and make her feel welcome.
I assumed counseling a few young girls would be cake, that I knew what girls that age were like, but that day I stood in awe. I’ve learned not to judge books by their cover. Not to presuppose that all children will act as I did.
I’ve learned that Asthma camp is NOT for sissies. changedfish
