Camp Star Trails: The World's Greatest

Hey readers! I'm sorry it has taken me a while to write again, but here it is:

I spent this past week at Camp Star Trails which is a camp put on mostly by people at MD Anderson for kiddos with cancer and their siblings. We had kids of all varieties there. We had boys and girls, from ages 5-6 all the way up to 12-13, still very sick and on chemo to siblings who had never been sick a day in their lives, kids who had just been diagnosed to kids that had never known a life without cancer. It was truly an amazing experience.

You may be wondering how something like this could be pulled off and how these kids, some with blatant disabilities could be entertained and kept from homesickness at an overnight camp for a week. Well, let's just say we were moving, moving, moving, the whole week.

I had a cabin of 10-12-year-old girls that were amazing. We had two that required a lot of special attention and another couple that tired very easily. We were at a camp site called "Camp for All" that is, what appears to be a multi-million dollar operation, complete with their own staff. All of the camp is completely wheel-chair accessible including the pools and bathrooms. Our cabin had only 8 campers to 4 counselors and we needed everyone of them!

The day started with optional "early morning fishing" at 6:30AM and ended most nights around 10:30 for us when all the girls got showered and in bed. We did basically everything that kids do at summer camp (that's kinda the point). We fished, canoed, did archery, rode bikes, conquered low ropes, climbed high ropes, went horseback riding, played sports, had a beauty spa and tea party, danced (a lot), got dressed up for a party and so much more. It was a full week! I am so happy to say that everyone in my cabin, including one wheel-chair/walker-bound camper, got to do everything! It was of course challenge by choice, but they were mostly great about choosing to challenge themselves.

Most people I have talked to about this have asked me if it was just overwhelmingly sad to be with these kids and how in the world I could work with kids with cancer. Honestly there were just a few times in the week that it was sad for me. When we were up and moving around doing things, it was pretty easy to forget what these kids are struggling with. But when we calmed down and settled for bed in the evening, it was impossible to escape. I suppose some of my campers may have been told they are "terminal" but I obviously didn't ask and they didn't volunteer that information. Who gives a care though? They don't (for the most part). They choose to get up every morning of camp and try new things and make new friends. They are kids and despite the amount of maturity one might think they claim after a diagnosis, they really still act like kids.

We sang a lot of songs at camp that were really cool and inspirational that I don't have time to write here. But there is one that sticks in my memory. We would sing this with motions and everything every morning and several evenings. It was really cool to see the kids start believing the chorus:

The first time I heard it, I was a bit shocked. What are we teaching these kids?! But really, it's so true. They are the world's greatest. They have overcome a very formidable enemy: Giving up. They (or their brother or sister) may or may not win the fight with cancer if we are honest, many of them will lose. But they get up and act like kids every morning. They came to a camp away from their parents and did amazing! I don't think I'll ever forget that song and how amazing it was to see these kids sing it.

The other aspect that I really liked about camp was how the brothers and sisters were invited to come and be a part of camp as well. They all cared so much about their bro or sis that is sick and were so attentive to their family connection. One little girl in my cabin and her little brother (coincidentally in Carter's cabin) reminded me some what of Wade and I's relationship and how I used to look up to him. It was so obvious how important that bond between brothers and sisters is, especially when one of them is or has been so sick.

I don't want to talk your ears off, but you can probably tell that I LOVED camp. I have recognized how much I LOVE working with kids, especially older elementary aged ones. I think back to Samoa and how important those kids were/are to me and how attached I got to the kids I worked with this week and can't help but think about doing something in the future with kids. Whether this is going into pediatrics, having my own kids, or doing something else I haven't thought of, I don't have a clue. I also realize that we have GOT to find better treatments and cures for them. Maybe research wouldn't be so bad after all.

I want everyone I know to go down to Star Trails with me next summer. My plan is to try to return to camp if it works out with wherever God has me next summer. His placement of me these past few years has been so incredible! I wouldn't change a thing, even though at times it has been hard and sad.

I hope you will join me in praying for these amazing kids, themselves and their siblings, and their fights with cancer. They are amazing and resilient for the most part. They really are the world's greatest!

A Shock to the Heart

Each week is bringing a new flavor of this job that I have and more over, of this life that I am leading. Donny and Laura (former interns) both warned me of the shocking self-discovery that this internship is sure to bring about. I thought back to my junior year in high school and the major disillusionments and self-discovering I had done back then and dreaded that this might be a bit like that. However, I had no idea what was in store for me this week.

As I wrote in my last blog, I was on-call at MD Anderson on Monday, available for all families or patients in distress. That was a little tough but I got through it. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I had some fairly intense and long visits each day. I heard out the patients worries and concerns and assisted them, mostly by listening, in getting through some of it. I thought that I was dealing with it just so efficiently that I had no qualms about going about the rest of my life in the evenings. I then got some news about a friend of mine that has been admitted to MD Anderson with a serious diagnosis. Although this upset me quite a bit, I pushed it to the back of my mind and moved on swiftly to the rest of my life. I thought I had dealt with everything that I needed to.

Although when I didn't get restful sleep on Thursday night, I found out that something was not quite right. I had strange dreams that haunted me throughout the morning such as a dream about me getting sick and being confused. When I got to work, I found it very hard to concentrate on what we were discussing and had very few things to say (which is odd for me). I felt like I was on the edge of tears all day but couldn't pin point why. I decided that I was too emotionally compromised to go on visits straight away after lunch. I picked up my visit sheet in the office (which was enormous and compounded the stress) and went into the chapel armed only with time to spend, a Bible, and pen and paper.

I first cast off some surface stress by entrusting it to God in formal prayer. I journal prayer at night and devote time in prayerful thought throughout the day, but it dawned on me that I had not actually entrusted these things to God in a traditional prayer. I prayed for my friend, my patient, my family, and some other things that were on my list of life anxieties. Once I had swept off the dusty floor of my mind, I was expecting great relief, but didn't find any. I was led to spend some time in quiet mediation, striving to clear my mind from these anxious thoughts and letting words go as a manner of communicating them to God. As I sat there, I still felt pressure building up within me. So, I decided to do the one thing that almost always helps me bleed out some of my worries, I picked up my pen and started to write.

As the words flowed out of my mind and onto the paper, I began to see that this was going deep. Below the dusty floor of my mind, was a trap door leading down into my deeper fears and anxieties. I discovered that most of my anxieties were about things that I couldn't control. The unknowns if you will, had crept in like termites and began to eat away at the structure of my deep mind and heart.

Finally, I was led to the real fear that had been reeking the most havoc on me. It was a fear I had never sensed. It was the fear of not being satisfied with my decision to become a physician. It was my fear of turning away from that. I had never given myself permission in these last two years to want something different, to not be okay with the sacrifices that medicine was asking me to take. I was afraid of not wanting that any more. Silly isn't it?

I have felt, since I made that decision, that my lot was cast, my bags were checked, my boarding pass was non-refundable, non-transferable. I had not given myself permission to look at the big board of flights and rethink which one I wanted to get on. I realized that it was OK to not be ok with the sacrifices that doctors make for my life. I had spent so much time being affirmed and looking for affirmation that I had developed tunnel vision for my life. Everything was about med school. Everything. Grades, activities, my schedule, etc. Even my time with my friends was wasted to some extent when I got a grade back I was not happy about. I was worried for goodness sake about making a B in Organic Chemistry and scoring "Average" on the national standardized final. I wanted to be above average, not for me, but for med school.

My head bowed when I realized this and I identified the sin. Med school and the life of a physician, the power of a physician had become the pearl in the field that I wanted to sell almost everything for. But most of all, I was afraid of the fact that I wasn't okay with that.

Please do not be led to believe that I am altering my whole life plan right now. I am not dropping out of ACU. I am not changing my major. I am not even changing my pre-med concentration. I am however changing my way of thinking about the future. I am going to go into this next school year with a new mind set of finally allowing myself to be myself, allowing my thoughts of the future to be designated by the presence of God, not a stethoscope.

As you can imagine, this was a hard step for me to take. I had drawn a lot of identity from that designation. I am still healing from the scar of where that identity was attached to my heart. I ask for your prayers and your indulgences as I grow into whatever God wants me to be. Even if that is an elementary teacher, Mom. :)

Thanks for all your love, support and prayers. I am so very very very grateful to have such a base of friends, family, family friends, and friendly family to pour my heart out to.

I'm Chaplain Huggins, returning your page?

"Is that a question?" my Spanish teacher would ask periodically when I sounded unsure about a phrase that I was pronouncing. "Yes, Dr. Brown, I believe it was." I would reply back with utmost respect. "Oh, I see. Could you say it like it was not a question." He asked walking over to my desk. "Yes (I could but only because you have already implied my syntax was correct by dwelling on the tone of my voice rather than the jumbled phrases)..." and class would continue. Yesterday, while being on call, I answered a phone that way. "This is Chaplain Huggins? Returning your call? (Oh goodness let it have been a mistake)." 

However, my confidence grew a bit throughout the day as I lived minute by minute hoping that none of the communication devices strapped to my waist would make a sound. But they did. It was unavoidable. It was not that I didn't want to do the work that they would imply was needing to be done, but the shock of any second being whisked away to another hard, unfamiliar situation.

I only responded to three calls, one of which I passed on to the "Second call chaplain" because I was in a meeting with the family from the first call. Although I cannot reveal the nature of my visits, I can tell you that I was stretched yesterday. However, let me say in no uncertain terms that God was there with me. Lifting me up and holding me tight in every situation. 

I know that God blesses this ministry because I have seen it. I have seen it in others and I now know I have seen it in myself. I could not have done anything for either of those situations if God had not been in control. More on that later I am sure. 

I suppose its a bit like being in the desert and having nothing that can help you besides a little training. Don't mistake me for saying that the training was less than it could have been. It is all really good. But truly, training is only a tool. God is the craftsman that puts the oasis in front of you and tells you how to get there. 

Thanks for reading, more to come. 

Tongue-tied

I need to start by apologizing for not keeping up with this blog like I did last summer. While these summers are vastly different and require different amounts of time and energy, I am still going to try to do better about keeping you guys all updated as best I can. 

I have had a problem this week of being as I might describe effectively tongue tied as far as writing goes. I would call it writers block but to me that signifies not writing at all or lacking the creativity to do so effectively. I have been tongue-tied, without words, not stories. I have plenty of stories to tell from each day, each moment, but the language with which to express what I need to is severely lacking. When we met with Virgil Fry on Friday for our reflections, he recommended journalling with as many feeling words as we could conjure up. I am not going to pretend that this concept scares me to some extent. If you know me at all, which the fact that you have my blog address might be an indication, you would know that I am head first thinker. Or at least that is what Paul calls it. This internship is a good way of getting in touch I suppose with my "feeling" side, but I am not yet to the point where I have mastery of the language of "feeling"; perhaps that is my brick wall, perhaps there is no "mastery" of this realm of life. 

This past week my reflection that I submitted to Paul and the rest of the guys on Friday was what I thought a clever play on Forest Gump's "box of chocolate" life theory. I submitted that "Pastoral Ministry is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are gonna get." Sometimes you walk into the room and it's like sweet milk chocolate with roasted almonds (my favorite). The visit is good and upbeat. The patient is responsive to open ended questions and does about 90% of the talking. Some visits are like the unidentified pink goo that tastes horrible and remains in your mouth the rest of the day. The patient kicks you out or won't talk or whatever the case may be. The point is that you don't know what is inside until you take a bite. The kicker to the analogy is that God is the chocolate. You don't know what is inside, but you know that God is going to be there and sustain you through the visit. You may not like the middle, but because God is there and chocolate is your favorite thing, you take the bite. Walking into that patients room and introducing yourself is taking the bite. I have gained the confidence already that I can take that step. I can deal with the uncertainty of the filling because I know that God is working in me and through me. He goes with me into each visit. More over, he has already been there and will continue to work in the patient or family member's heart after I leave. Praise God that He is the one doing this work, not me. 

Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I will try to keep you guys up to date. 

Tomorrow, Monday the 8th, is my first day on call at MD Anderson as the chaplain from 8am-5pm. This means I will respond to referrals, pages, code blues and any deaths that may occur. This work would be unbearable if it where not for the God that lives in me and goes beside me. Please be in prayer for my co-interns and I as we take this step in our ministry. 

Insert Creative Title Later

So sorry that I haven't been too good about posting this week. My week has been very tiring and very full. Between actual work, working out and trying to keep up with people my days fill themselves time and time again and before I know it, I am thinking, "Whew! I better go to bed soon or I will regret it." Sometimes I regret it anyways. 

Monday was a good day starting with donuts and following through with videos about listening skills. I had heard most of it from the other literature that we have gone through lately, but refresher courses are never bad. Visits were fairly uneventful except in the sense that after I finished my list at St. Luke's, I walked over to MD Anderson only to discover that Evan and Preston had already finished the lists over there as well. We didn't have our reading with us, so we dosed in a lobby (I say "a lobby" because there are like a million lobbies in there) for a while until we met Carter to drive home. 

Tuesday Paul followed me on some visits to see how I was doing. He assured me that it was NOT an assessment, but just making sure I knew my way around and interacted well with patients. We saw a couple of patients together and then he pealed off to do some lunch before taking off for the day. Monday and Tuesday were my first days to interact with a pediatric patient and a family of a pediatric patient in Texas Children's Hospital. It is definitely a whole new ball game! More on that in a minute. 

Today, which is Wednesday, was quite depressing in most senses as far as visits went. There were a few moments of smiles and laughter, but for the most parts my patients today were not interested in talking about the weather or the Astros. They were interested in talking about their pain, their concern for their families, and more. I watched as in room after room eyes filled with tears and emotions overflowed on to the pillows as wet splotches, reminders of human's imperfect and volatile nature. Perhaps it was the weather, perhaps it was the fact that I have known some of them for a couple of days, but perhaps it was just God, asking me to swim deeper in to these waters. As when you are scuba diving, I feel that my ears will equalize at some point, but for now, they are aching. My heart has been asked to pour out more today and any of the other days combined. 

I ask that you all pray for strength for me as I continue to swim deeper into the waters of this ministry. God is faithful. He has carried me this far, and I know He will not let me down. This week has been such a reminder that pain can still reach us when we are leaning upon him. It can reach us but not overtake us. I think of the verse, "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:8-9) This summer is different in every respect than last summer, that is for sure! :) 

Thanks for reading. Comments and other messages are encouraged!