Lessons Learned from Kellie

I was sitting in the middle of the leader meeting, trying to figure out how to nicely say “it’s not my job to make sure all 350 kids are eating” to the leaders when I saw her.  She was whispering to her co-leader and I couldn’t quite figure out why she looked so familiar.  I squinted to see her nametag when it hit me- That’s Kellie!

I first met Kellie two years earlier- when she was carried to the nurse’s station in tears after falling during the night game- on the very first night.  She had tweaked her back and was in a lot of pain, and I was completely overwhelmed.  See, unbeknownst to her, I really had no idea what I was doing.  I’d been the camp nurse for all of like 5 hours, a role which I didn’t feel prepared for to begin with.  But Blake had faith in me- certainly more than I had in myself- and that, combined with a whole lot of prayer, made it at least look like I knew what I was talking about.  I gave her some ibuprofen, ice and helped her calm down a bit, while the game raged on around us, and I started my usual routine of hydrogen peroxide and band-aids.

That night, I got called back to Kellie because she was in so much pain that she could hardly breathe, and apparently I’d done such a convincing job the last time around, that everyone thought I’d have the right answers.  I prayed my little heart out on that short walk to Cedar 11.  After some brainstorming and heat therapy, coupled with some more ibuprofen, we got to the point where she could sleep- either because she’d calmed down or I’d drugged her enough- and I walked wearily back to my cabin.  That night I prayed harder than I’ve prayed in my entire life.  For Kellie, and for myself.  In that moment, I knew I wouldn’t be able to survive the week if I was trying to do it all on my own.

My journal entry from that night reads “Lord, watch over Kellie.  She’s scared and in pain and needs to sleep peacefully tonight.  If it is your will, heal her so that her week won’t be ruined…” My heart broke for Kellie not just because she was suffering when everyone around her was having fun, but because it had happened on the very first night- and almost everything at camp required the ability to bend and twist and move easily- things that she couldn’t do without pain.  She was especially disappointed about missing out on doing the high ropes course with her cabin.  I told her that I happened to have some pull with the high ropes guy, so if things had improved by the end of the week, I’d make sure she could do it.

Over the next few days, Kellie and I became BFFs as she hung out with me while everyone else ran around like crazy people.  It was during this time that she taught me one of the lessons that is most valuable to my job today- how to help teenagers cope with the fact that being sick/injured means they have to miss out on what everyone else gets to do.  Just this morning I got to discharge a girl who had spent the last month with us, and over the last week she had talked to me about how she wasn’t nearly as excited about her senior year as she was before- her clothes wouldn’t fit the same and she wouldn’t be allowed to do everything she had planned.  When I first started at Hopkins, my preceptor remarked that she was impressed with how easily I got along with our patients- that I seemed to really be able to connect and develop relationships with them.  I largely attribute this to my experience with Kellie, and others like her along the way.

Flash forward to the leader meeting, where I finished my schpeele about making sure the kids drank water and ate real food etc.  I got caught up in my regular camp nurse duties, and the next day, Kellie came up to me and said “I don’t know if you remember me, especially since I’m a leader now but…”  to which I replied “of course I remember you Kellie!  It’s good to see that even after that week, you decided you wanted to come back to camp!”  As I explained to Tres that Kellie and I had become BFFs two years ago, she reminded me that I had made her read Philippians that year, while she spent so much time on my deck.  I remembered that had been part of my hope the week wouldn’t be a total loss.  I also remembered that she did get to do the high ropes course on the last day of camp, and although her cabin mates had already been through it once, many of them came up to cheer her on, which I imagine motivated her to continue pushing even though I’m sure she was in pain.

A few days later, Kellie’s sister (and co-leader) came up to me and said “Kellie isn’t feeling well, but she won’t come tell you because she’s a leader and she knows you have kids to take care of.”  I made the even shorter walk to Fir 20 (talk about an upgrade) and jokingly scolded Kellie for not telling me sooner- I was there to take care of her too, not just the kids.  We talked for a bit and I prayed over her before I again went back to my routine of hydrogen peroxide and band-aids.

Throughout the week I made an effort to check in with Kellie.  I knew the game she was playing well, because I happen to be a veteran of that game.  For years- well my whole life really- I’ve been hesitant to accept help from other people, either because I didn’t think what I was dealing with was a big deal, or I knew they had other things/people to take care of at the time.  I found myself saying the same thing to Kellie that God has said to me time and time again- “Let me take care of you.”

Not so coincidentally, it was at Riverview that first year that I learned that vulnerability isn’t a bad thing, especially when shared with the right people.  I was in a difficult place when I arrived there, and my own heart needed healing before I could make any attempt at healing the physical wounds of others.  That’s the main reason I consider it such a sacred place- God did a number on me while I was there, and it wasn’t just at the top of the vertical playground.  Little did I know that He was preparing me for the most difficult year of my life.  It was only because of the lessons I learned while I was at camp that I survived- most importantly, how to let other people take care of me.

I remember telling Kellie shortly after we first met that she had been brought to camp for a reason, and while the week may end up differently that we thought, I was going to do my best to make sure it wasn’t a waste.  I’d like to think I succeeded in some part, especially since she took the time to come back as a leader two years later.  What I didn’t realize at the time was God was using her in my life just as much, if not more, than he was using me in her life.

So thanks Kellie.  I’m not sure when and if I’ll see you again, but know that you’ll always have a special place in my heart, and I use the lessons you’ve taught me almost daily as I care for my patients.  I’m glad we can at least be facebook friends J