Watching Survivors Become Thrivers
I'd like to write about my latest adventure, which is still a fresh memory. Getting to Camp Thrive was a big deal for me because I drove by myself — the longest distance I’ve driven alone so far — which was only 3 hours away. My cabin mate Megan pointed out what a big deal this was along my healing journey. I broke the drive into 3 one-hour segments; first arriving at a super charging station in Hickory, NC. Then I visited a friend in Winston-Salem for lunch and a power nap on her couch. When I reached the final destination more than 5 hours later, I arrived refreshed and ready to make new friends.
Camp Carefree in Stokesdale, NC has provided a free one-week camping experience for kids ages 6 to 16 with chronic illnesses and disabilities since 1986. For a few days each year, it also becomes a place where adults living with brain injury can become campers, forget our daily concerns and just have fun. This year was rebranded Camp Thrive and there were 64 campers, 36 caregivers and 33 volunteers. I last attended this camp about 15 years ago, only a year after surviving the car crash. In fact, as I was completing the camp registration form and entered my age, I typed “(Gasp!)” beside the number, which I learned made some folks in the office chuckle.
I pulled down the long driveway to a registration table, and was handed a name tag with my Group # and cabin assignment: Milton, Room #2. I was the first to arrive, and after confirming there wouldn’t be a counselor in each cabin, I chose the only bed with two mattresses. I consulted my own packing list and camp list that was provided. After making the bed, I tossed not one, not two, but three pillows that I brought onto the freshly made mattress. It may have seemed excessive, until a cabin mate realized she’d forgotten to pack a pillow, so I gave her one of mine.
There were three of us “Milton Misfits” in Room #2, and a service dog named Billy, who became our cabin mascot. His trainer had positioned Billy’s crate at the foot of my bed, but she dragged it closer to hers during the night because he had separation anxiety and started to whimper. Nothing could have disturbed my slumber, though! I was prepared with an oscillating fan, a sleep mask, earplugs, and Power to Sleep PM (a natural sleep aid from Whole Foods).
I had to consult the Camp schedule to recall what happened next: ah, yes, the Taco Bar Dinner, and Luau Dance Party! After consuming too many tacos, I slipped into a red Hawaiian dress to meet my fellow campers. I made a point of searching for any lone wolves, those souls who were simply minding their own business. After I gently dragged each un-expecting partner to the floor, every dance ended in laughter and smiles.
I am a fairly decent dancer, and I perfected a new technique where a person could sit absolutely still in their wheelchair while I flung myself under their arms, wildly around their chair, and I would occasionally pivot them in a gentle swirl. Breathless each time, I would exclaim “Thanks for the dance! You wore me out!“. Next on the schedule was Lights Out at 10 PM, but it was 9 PM on my own timeline.
My life was such a blur all those years ago at the beginning of my recovery, that I recall nothing about the first camp experience. That is until I walked into the barn, and saw the handicap ramp which suddenly felt familiar, because I had used it before. “I remember this riding ring!“ I exclaimed to anyone who was listening. It had been years since I last mounted a horse, possibly the last time was when I was standing right there, yet the steps were all still deep within me. I had been riding for many years, ever since my first lessons began with Daddy when I was ten years old.
I was handed a pink plastic helmet, and wanted to pull out the green handkerchief from my back-pocket, but decided against tying it around my hair for fear that I may look like a snob. As I plopped myself into the saddle, I was introduced to Cinnamon, who was an older chestnut American Quarter Horse. I began stroking his main and firmly patting his neck, and then noticed how long the stirrups were and that there were no reins. Two volunteers eased up on either side of me, and I smiled to myself as I realized there would be no need for reins, no posting the trot, or cantering on this ride. Besides, it was a western saddle with a large horn, and I grew up riding English.
As we took a few leisurely spins around the ring, I pretended to post and gently rocked in the saddle between Cinnamon’s slow strides. It felt so familiar, and I raised my hands above my head to wave at the small audience that gathered. A few friends commented how far away from the ground we riders were, and how scary it must have been to let go of the saddle. One volunteer noticed how comfortable I was, and I learned that she was Mandy Crews, the owner of Gentle Reins Ranch and these donated horses.
The afternoon activity included creating Thriving Vision Boards in the Arts & Crafts building, which was super cool, because the Camp Director, Molly Hastings, had an abundance of magazines donated from a local library. My board is punctuated with glittery stars & flowers and colorful expressions that says "Fearless health", "Enjoy the process", "Brain-body benefits of meditation" and "How to reinvent yourself".
Group 2 also played a beach ball bonding game, where we tossed a ball covered with get-to-know-you questions to each other and we'd answer the question under wherever our fingers landed. A few us skipped the bingo activity (cautious about noise sensitivity), and met up with new friends for bonding conversations in the Pavilion.
Following the cookout that was held in The Barn, Kitty Barringer and I were invited to lead an inspirational campfire talk. We adapted what we presented at the BIANC Conference earlier in the Summer, about how brain injury survivors can become brain injury Thrivers. We had not gotten a chance to practice, but we shared and brought notes. These notes were actually not helpful, because as the sun dropped, it got too dark to read them. So I started speaking from the heart, and my friend Megan took a cool transparent photo of whom she called “Reverend Angela“ who walked around the campfire talking about the importance of building support group communities and trying our best to maintain positivity.
It was during this talk that I told my new circle of friends that the next day would mark the 17th anniversary of my wedding to Rich who was killed in the car crash. I got choked up and a fellow Thriver nearby stood up and asked if they could give me a hug, which I gladly accepted! Fellow Brain Injury Advisory Council member, Kelly Lang, shared this comment on Facebook: "Grief is cyclical and never fully leaves us. It is sometimes hard to explain why you can be both sad and happy concurrently." It is a tough concept for many of us, anyone who has pulled through a traumatic event can relate to feeling grateful to have survived but also sad that it happened.
One thing I vaguely remember about my previous Camp experience was attending a survivor talk that was led by my friend, Joe Barrett. I remember how meaningful and uplifting his words were, and I can only hope my message left as positive of an impact on others as Joe's words did for me.
The Camp directors had to make the difficult decision to pause its program to keep campers safe, and this was the first season camp resumed for adults living with brain injury since the Covid-19 outbreak began. There were some returning campers, like myself, however most folks were new to their brain injuries and to camp. We all learned that none of us are alone. The bonding conversations, and memories made were priceless. Many phone numbers were exchanged so that communities across North Carolina were broadened. If you are an adult living with brain injury -- no matter how disabled or high functioning you may be -- and have not yet attended this camp, please consider joining us next year. Witnessing all the different levels of disability made me even more grateful for where I am along my own healing journey, and for all those who help and support us (the hardworking caregivers are also welcome to receive complimentary massages). The food is excellent, the staff and volunteers are friendly and accommodating, and new friendships are waiting to be made.