Joey

One of the kids that I worked with at camp (a very long time ago) that sticks out in my memory - now that I am making a decided effort, anyway - is Joey.

He was such a great kid - deserved so much better than the life he had.

I had thrown a fit about having him assigned to my cabin.

Had never met him - just a name and brief description on the list of campers that were assigned to my group. Took one look at the sheet of paper and went storming up to the Director's office.

"You promised! No dying kids!!!!!!!!!!  This one has leukemia! Swap him for someone else. You promised!"

I was maybe 19 years old - it was my 4th year at the camp for physically disabled kids - and I had almost not gone back because I just could not cope with kids that up & died on me. Too much death.... we had one of those years, y'know? A bunch of the campers I'd grown close to in my first couple of years had died ... back then, people with Muscular Dystrophy rarely lived to adulthood. And Darlene, a baby who had been born with Downs Syndrome and serious heart problems - she'd died too; just barely a year old. And there had been a car accident with 7 of my brother & sister's friends from cadets - and my grandmother - and our cat - and....

It felt as though everyone around me died - and I didn't care for it; couldn't cope...didn't want to get close to any one that was liable...

And he had promised.

And then he stuck me with Joey.

Joey was a parapalegic because of his leukemia.... well... that and the fact that his parents and his doctors were - at least in my opinion - irresponsible morons.

His parents couldn't cope with his illness. So they just dumped him. Whenever he got sick, they would drop him off at the hospital and just disappear. He'd be discharged into the system - have an opportunity to bond with foster parents - and then they - his 'real' parents - would decide that they wanted him back. Yank!

Until he got sick again.

Anyway - basically, without an advocate, Joey became a guinea pig. At least that was my perception. Experimental drugs, experimental surgeries - and oops, shucks darn, we somehow damaged his spine. So now he is not only dying  - back then the treatments available for leukemia were nowhere near as successful as they often are now - but now he's paralyzed from the waist down, too. And incontinent.

Would it surprise you to know that his natural parents didn't want him back?

I didn't know most of that story at the time; all I had was a brief description. Parapalegic. Fine; no problem. Incontinent; again, no problem. Leukemia - get this kid the hell OUT OF MY CABIN!

No such luck.

I don't know why they refused to move him - whether it was strictly because we were the heavy nursing care cabin (once I made Sr. Counsellor I always got the heavy care unit) - or because the director had decided that I needed to get over my issues - or a combination thereof. But no amount of pleading, whining, or pouting worked, and sure enough, on the first day of Jr. Camp, there he was.

Swore that I wasn't going to get attached. Walls - that's what I was all about.

Lasted about 2 minutes. Max.

We clicked, Joey & I.

We just clicked. Connected. Immediately.

He was a scrawny 12 year old; I could have carried him around all day and never got out of breath. There was just so little to him. Matchsticks.

He looked like he would break if you blew at him too hard.

It's been such a very long time since I knew Joey.

Such a very long time since I said good-bye to him.

And I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes as I think of how very important that young man was to me.

How is it possible that I have not thought of him for so long. Years, really, I'm ashamed to say. It's only recently that I have really made any attempt to look back at where I've been - at who I've left behind me.

Anyway.... Joey.

Great smile - but if you've read my previous article about camp you probably guessed that. I wish I had a picture. There are some - somewhere. Must go hunting.

Joey had a great time at camp. His first summer, he was there for Christmas in July - he made presents for everyone. He didn't care about pecking orders or who/what was cool or any of that - was friendly and interested in everyone. And he was SO quick. So funny. And so very, very sharp - alert to every nuance; every word that was said, and every word that wasn't.

When Joey's camp session ended, there were tears in both of our eyes. He was going to a new foster home; we talked about staying in touch, but....  everyone does, at camp. But it doesn't always happen.

Anyway. We did.

Shortly after camp ended - for me, I mean - for the summer,  my cousin Todd was admitted to the Children's hospital. I went up to visit him and there was Joey. For as long as Todd was in, I was able to visit both boys whenever.... but once Todd was discharged, the hospital started questioning me about being there. Joey and I were not related - and because he was a ward of the state ...

They offered a solution though, and I jumped at it.

And before I turned around, I was cleared as a Child Life Volunteer. Who was ~assigned~ only one job :)

Every day after my college classes ended, if either of the boys were in,  I would take the city bus to the Children's Hospital, where I would spend an hour or two. They got to be good friends too, even though Joey was several years older than Todd - he entertained him; watched out for him. Never once expressed any jealousy about the fact that Todd had a family and - although disabled - didn't have the sort of serious illness he did.

He also never complained about his own birth family, or about any of his foster families, or the crap he went through. I don't remember Joey ever complaining about anything. He had a lot he could have complained about. But he didn't.

We played cards, drew pictures, sat and talked. Sometimes went for a walk. Nothing special - just hung out together. We talked about fluff. And sometimes we talked about the big stuff. Life, death, family.... fear.

Joey went back to camp each summer but was never again in my cabin; I had girls. But that connection - the one we established 'from first sight' - it never wavered. And all throughout the rest of the time - outside of camp, whenever he was in the hospital, they would let me know and I would pick up my ~volunteer~ duties. We wrote letters sometimes, when he was out - in whatever foster home - but they were all such short term placements that we never did get around to making arrangements for me to see him wherever he was. Besides, it was when he was sick and alone in the hospital that he needed me.

After Todd died (pneumonia - same incompetent doctor that maimed Joey, I later found out) - we cried together. And became even closer. He worried about me; about how I would react when he "went too".

The last year I was at camp, I was not happy. I did not want to be there - and in fact, I ended up quitting halfway through the summer, and moving away.

Before I made that decision though, I went up to the hospital to see Joey. He didn't make it to camp that year; he was too ill.

I knew that I wanted to quit. Was done with camp. But to move out West - that was a huge step, and I felt so horribly guilty about leaving him. And that was the second time we cried together, Joey & I. He insisted I go. And I did.

If I had known how little time he had left at that point, I would not have gone. I would have been there for him. With him.

But we didn't know.

And he would be so very very upset with me if I had felt guilty, so I tried not to.

Joey taught me so many things. About caring for people - even people who are going to leave you. About courage. And about acceptance.

He was a pretty special young man.