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Sitting on the dock, my feet up, and enjoying the light breeze, the toasty warm sun, the occasional annoying mosquito and the cries of “Help me! gurgle…gurgle…spit…sputter. Help me! I can’t swim!” It was no big deal…just a Bronze Cross swimming class. I was greatly entertained by the life saving display of skills as they practiced their deep water rescues using life buoys and the hooks. I witnessed many lives saved!

I ‘m not gonna lie, that was pretty fun…only cuz it was practice though! But in the back of my mind I was still contemplating what to do about the dirty hands. Hmmmm….

My morning, otherwise, was broken up by several “dock referrals” for various minor afflictions such as worked-over itchy mosquito bites and allergic rhinitis. Nothing life threatening but enough to make me put down my magazine a few times.

But still contemplating what to do about the hands. What if I…

As it started to get closer to lunch time I decided to go visit my charges in the infirmary. Another hike up the rocky pathway. Another quick consultation by the rock climbing wall, and up the stairs (feel

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the burn thunder thighs? You are melting! Ha, ha!!) to the second floor. I peeked in the door and stepped inside. The room was warm and dark and the smell of dirty hair and feet was heavy. The little guy on the bottom bunk was sound asleep with drool on his pillow case. I stood on my tippy toes to have a view of the little guy on the top bunk. Same.

“Hey guys?” I spoke softly. “Can you wake up for me? How ya doin’?” I pulled open the beach towel “curtain” to let in the sun.

They both slowly began to stir. Moving their limbs and stretching. Opening their eyes and blinking. The upper bunk dude peered over the side and looked down to me. 

“I feel much better!” He said with a little smile.

“Me too.” Nodded the camper in the lower bunk.

“No sweats? No hurling?” 

“Nope.” 

“Nah.” They responded.

“OK. Do you want to try some lunch?” They both nodded. “Well go easy. At least try some juice and see how that goes. If it feels like it is gonna stay down, then maybe try something light like a piece of bread. Then come visit me after lunch and let me know how it went. OK guys? You can go back to your hut now.”

They thanked me, slowly got out of bed, gathered their things and I followed them as they went down the back stairwell. What was I gonna do about the crappy hand hygiene?

“Oh and guys?” I leaned over the stairwell and called to them. They both stopped and looked up at me. “Wash your hands before every meal, OK? That will help stop this from happening again. OK?”

“OK.” They both responded and started back down the stairs.

“Oh and guys?” I leaned over again. They both stopped again and looked up at me. “Tell your friends too.” 

“OK. Sure. See ya nurse!” They continued down the stairs and out the door.

I looked at my watch and realized I had a couple of minutes before I had to get my kids. I decided to sit down and document all my “consultations” from the morning and update my follow-up on the two nauseated campers. I opened the door of the office, still considering repugnant fingernails (And exactly when was it that I became so uptight about washing your hands? Thinking back, I realized it was the first lecture on my first day of nursing school, so it was no wonder since I had been brainwashed from day one!) only to discover two more first aid kits stacked on my desk. WTH?

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