MERTHIOLATE AND MILK OF MAGNESIUM

Over the course of 48 summers (yes, I counted and recounted!), I remember many camp nurses. My experiences began with Mrs. Thurmond. You know what? I don’t think I ever knew her first name; she was just Mrs. Thurmond; she always wore nurse’s white and she never was without her little white cap. She was, to say the least, rotund of figure. She was not very tall, but I remember her as being as least as wide as she was tall.

Mrs. Thurmond held clinic after breakfast and after dinner; but never after lunch, unless it was an emergency (like your leg was nearly severed or three rattle snakes had bitten you simultaneously)… Mrs. Thurmond both believed in and enjoyed Rest Hour. Woe betide the camper who came sniveling with a splinter or a sore throat.

In fact, woe betide the camper who came with an injury like that even during proscribed clinic hours. Mrs. Thurmond had a sure cure for minor ailments: Merthiolate and Milk of Magnesia. I rarely went to the infirmary… never liked Dr.’s offices and such; but once I did go with a legitimate sore throat. Mrs. Thurmond got out her Dr.’s light and depressed my tongue. She stuck the thing so far back in my mouth that I gagged for about a minute. Then she reached for a long ‘cue tip’. She dipped it into a large brown bottle and then she shoved that swab down the back of my throat. It felt like I had swallowed a hot charcoal and I was still gagging from the swab. I never went back for a sore throat, a splinter; not sure I would have gone back for a broken arm! That merthiolate swabbing cured me for life.

Well, not exactly true. I did go back once with a stomach ache and it wasn’t even Swimming Meet Saturday. This time she got another brown bottle that was labeled ‘Milk of Magnesia’, this white chalky stuff. She poured out a small cup and told me to drink it. I tried, but it gagged me worse than the tongue depressor. She grabbed me and tilted my head back and tossed the rest of it down, like you would put a pill down your dog’s throat. After I finished throwing up, I never had another stomach ache, either; and if my appendix had ruptured, I think I would have done my own surgery.

Mrs. Thurmond was pretty tough, didn’t go in for coddling Younger Boys. I think she gave MofM for homesickness, too! And it worked. But she had another side; every now and then we got special soup and sandwiches for lunch when it seemed to her that her boys were a little too tired for their own good and she would sometimes lobby Pop (she sat on his left and had his ear) for an extended Rest Hour, which I only appreciated as a leader.

She was proactive in other ways as well. We had Graham Crackers and Prunes every night before bed… though Robert’s spaghetti was probably sufficient for our regularity! Once I kept a prune seed in my mouth all night when I was a Younger Boy; wanted to see what it would look like in the morning; almost was the first Y Camper to die from prune inhalation.

Mrs. Thurmond was tough, but she loved us even so; and she had another side as well. She liked to have fun; though I never knew it until one night at the Talent Show, she and Coach Poss came jitterbugging down the aisle and to the front of the Lodge. I think Coach Poss was probably the only man large enough to steer that stately ship. It was quite a show, and I never could go by the infirmary again without the scene of that night in my head.

I also experienced the tough love of Mrs. Richwine, who didn’t always smile but certainly cared deeply for her charges. I remember a case of Poison Ivey so bad that Calamine Lotion could not touch it. Finally, Mrs. Richwine gave me a shot of Cortisone (in those days a camp nurse could probably have performed brain surgery and no one would have thought anything of it!). But she did it without pain killer. It was like she dumped the entire bottle of Merthiolate in one artery. I remember the fire going down my arm and coming back up, praying it did not hit my heart. Pop was there; I suppose to carry out my body if there were a need. But I survived and the PI was gone in two days.

I remember Mrs. Cannon, Nurse Held and then Coach Mike imported two of his cheerleaders on different years to be the nurse; I think those were the longest lines ever at the Infirmary Door: Caroline and Pam. Even Mr. Simpson and Coach Mike would stand in line; not to mention every supervisor in camp!

Y Camp has always been a place for men, young and old… but there were always a few good women around to keep us in line. Don’t worry; we will get to Mrs. Leonard/Rabenau sometime soon! Lots of stories there, as well.