July 13, 2024
July 13th
Prior to the events of yesterday’s airlift out of camp and admission, Tim and I were enjoying our own little getaway in the mountains. Probably a less talked about benefit of camp is the break it gives the caregivers. Many of these kids can’t just sign up for summer activities or regular camps. You can’t drop them at the pool or spend a day at the beach. This camp is a respite for parents and caregivers, gives families time with their non medical kids to do the activities THEY enjoy with no guilt, it reboots marriages, allows us all to take a deep breath and just live a little better. With zero worry about that child that you usually spend 24/7 with.
There was endless tears and disappointment yesterday but a lot of beauty too. The texts and messages I received all day long from camp family initially with updates and eventually with photos and stories, supportive words and just wanting to know how Tate was doing were fuel for my bruised heart.
I wasn’t made aware of this plan until she was basically at the hospital, but a camp staffer drove all the way from camp, around a closed I70, to make sure Tate had all her things. A REALLY long day for her with summer weekend traffic, and all the closures. SO incredibly above and beyond. The highlight was when she told me a story of a 7 year old boy Tate befriended. His first year at camp. He had just finished chemo and gotten a G tube and was incredibly self conscious. He connected with Tate, saw her G/J peeking out from her sassy cropped teen top I’m sure and slowly lifted his shirt to show her that he had one too. A place where their normal is normal. The ripple effects of that is so far reaching. I hope he goes home with a little more confidence knowing he’s not so alone. And even the big kids are tubies.
And can you imagine sending your 7 year old baby who just finished fighting for his life against cancer and now has everything residual that comes with after years of treatment these kids go through….imagine sending him away from you to camp. For someone else to care for him both emotionally and physically. It’s done through the staff, but the campers care for each other too. There’s so much trust and beauty in that. And also a need in that home for a respite. A renewal and desperation for something normal for the child and for the ones at home for the week. That’s Round Up. That’s the Round Up staff and that’s the Round Up kids. Brings tears of gratitude every time.
I had big plans on how I wanted to share this opportunity to give to Round Up because as you’re learning it is a huge part of our families heart. But here it is.
As for Tate’s current hospital status. We’re waiting for cultures to do their thing while she receives IV antibiotics and steroids on schedule around the clock.
And while we wait….She’s still wearing the remnants of camp while lying in a hospital bed. She rolled out of that helicopter in a pink fleece unicorn onesie on a 105 degree day (ahem, “I do not have a fever!”) and still has pink nails, tinsel strands and pink hair and somehow…glitter under her socks covering her feet and now her hospital sheets. Must be a little of that camp magic they sent with her.
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