No rest for the wicked!

I had five campers waiting for me outside the health office. When I opened the stairwell door they all turned to look at me.

You got that right! Wicked!

“Who woulda thunk it! Nurse Anne seemed so legit…but she fooled us all. Deep down inside she is totally, totally wicked!” Paul said as he sat on the floor, legs stretched out and his arms were crossed. 

“Ya Nurse Anne! I thought you were nice!” Matthew piped up. He was one of the little Deer hut dudes who had come for his antihistamine. 

“I am nice Matthew!” I said feigning offense at him suggesting otherwise. “It was all a part of the show. I swear.” I said as crossed my heart across my chest and then gave him a shifty look and laughed an evil villain laugh. I unlocked the door and the boys followed me in.

“You have to admit Nurse Anne, having this place all to yourself would be totally boring. You need us campers here to make it fun.” 

“Indeed. I cannot imagine what it would be like without you guys here. It would be quiet, and there would be no capture the flag, or scabby band-aids, or bleeding insect bites or barfing boys.”

“Exactly!” Matthew said with a huge grin. “Like I said. We are so much fun.”


I finished up with the three boys who needed meds and then attended to the other two. One case of twisted ankle (no swelling or bruising so we just tried some acetaminophen and a zip-lock ice pack) and a swimmer’s ear (the tiny drop of rubbing alcohol did the trick!).

I was documenting in my nursing notes when I heard the stomping of what seemed like an army of feet coming up the back stairs. Marcy, the tripping counselor, was leading the group of seven trippers for their post-tripping check up before they went home the next morning. They were a younger group of trippers being between ten and twelve years old.

“Nurse Anne! These guys just got out of the shower, so they are squeaky clean for you. Except for the permadirt.” Marcy giggled.

“Thanks guys. I appreciate it!” I said as stood up and I clapped. “Welcome back. You survived! How was the trip?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway.



“The best!”

“So you spent your days paddling and portaging canoes and setting up tents and being eaten by mosquitoes and cooking your food and pooping in the woods…and that was fantastic, excellent and the best? Seriously?” They laughed in response.


“It rocked.”

“OK guys. I will just have to take your word for it.” I said as I shook my head in disbelief. “Let’s have you guys show me your war wounds.”

Then began the parade of knee abrasions, narsty mosquito bites, slivers, sunburns and lots of blisters. Paddling blisters on the hands, heel and toe blisters from shoes, and neck blisters from the yoke of the canoe.

Impetigo…no fun!

Marcy showed me a moderate sized abrasion on the back of her neck that looked like it was infected with impetigo. She had done a large part of the portaging as the trippers were not able to portage a canoe for very long so the area had taken a lot of abuse. I gave her some antibiotic cream for now and explained that it could get bad fast and was contagious. She promised she would take really good care of it.   

“Well you guys look like you will all live. Go and enjoy the rave.”

The trippers thanked me and left. I finished up documenting on the tripper injuries and got up to do a quick wipe down of the office and that’s when I noticed the two very beat up and very filthy tripping first aid kits sitting on the exam table. Ugh. 

I grimaced and my shoulders drooped. I was giving the first aid kits an evil eye when I heard footsteps in the hall. I turned to look and saw Ted, looking pasty and miserable. Ugh again.

I’m so sad

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