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Well, I was saddened today to find out that someone else from my childhood has past over to the next life.
Mrs. D, (as we used to call her), and her husband owned a Camp that me and my brother used to go to every summer throughout our childhood. A lot of my greatest childhood memories came from going to that camp so it's no surprise that I ended up sending my kids there also. Mrs. D was the nurse at the Camp and when I turned older, found out that she was the school nurse at my middle school. During that time, I think she got sick of seeing me, especially at school. During Camp, only once in a while I felt like being home in the air conditioner watching Philly 57 instead of being out in the heat so I would go see Mrs. D and fake an illness so I could get sent home. Her little first aid room at Camp kind of smelled like that medicine that you spray on cuts. She never would send me home though and knew pretty much that I was never sick. One time she pacified me by letting me go upstairs to their 3rd floor, and let me lay down in their bedroom and watch TV...until I felt better. (They lived at the Camp.) The 3rd floor was off limits to us,(after all it was their bedroom and personal space), therefore making it this magical forbidden place in our minds. I still remember the excitement of walking up those steps, knowing that the mystery room would now be seen by my eyes. It just turned out to be a regular nice bedroom but I was still the envy of my camp friends later that day when I got to rub it in their faces that I was allowed to enter that 3rd floor. Now I think about it, I would have done the same thing to get an annoying hypochondriac kid out of my face. Still, it was a cool thing of her to let me do.
When I entered Middle School, I was a complete, emotional wreck. I was thee easiest target to be made fun of back then.(Which is probably why now I'm prone to rip somebody's face off for even glancing at me wrong.) Back then though, whenever I was made fun of, I would remain quiet and try to escape school somehow. And because I knew that it would be impossible for me to climb out a classroom window and run, I did the next logical thing and would go to the nurse's office with a pretend illness. Mrs. D, being the middle school nurse then, pretty much saw me on a regular basis then; sometimes more than twice a day. She usually would just give me a chewable lemon flavored Maalox which I hated and would take my temperature. The first time she took my temperature at school, she came out with these plastic thermometers, that are called "Tempa-Dots."
I remember looking at those evil little dots on that thing, wondering how the hell I would be able to fake a temperature with that thing. No matter how hard I would suck on that thing, trying to get it hotter, it always came out normal, which I knew it would be from the lack of blue dots on it. If I came back to the nurse's office more than once Mrs. D would make me lay down on a cushioned cot and would send me back to class eventually. I really became so desperate that I taught myself to throw up on my own so I could get sent home. She did send me home at times but I think that she sent me either back to the classroom or back outside so I wouldn't be such a wimp. I can't image what I've would have been like if she had sent me home every time I came to her claiming I was sick again. Maybe I would still be a wimp, scared to speak up for myself. I like to think that because Mrs. D forced me to go back to class, (which she never knew how bad I was ridiculed since I was too ashamed to tell anyone), that I learned eventually not to let anyone walk all over me and not to take people's judgement comments to heart. Even though I had to learn the street way to defend myself, having kids and teaching them the right way to stick up for yourself thankfully gave me the balance to still stand up for myself and not get a disorderly persons/assault charge in the process.
Anyway, as I read of Mrs. Dee's passing in the paper today, I remembered her and what a nice lady she was. Even though I hadn't seen her in many years, she had always remained in my childhood memories and always will.
Rest in peace Mrs. D~
Mrs. D, (as we used to call her), and her husband owned a Camp that me and my brother used to go to every summer throughout our childhood. A lot of my greatest childhood memories came from going to that camp so it's no surprise that I ended up sending my kids there also. Mrs. D was the nurse at the Camp and when I turned older, found out that she was the school nurse at my middle school. During that time, I think she got sick of seeing me, especially at school. During Camp, only once in a while I felt like being home in the air conditioner watching Philly 57 instead of being out in the heat so I would go see Mrs. D and fake an illness so I could get sent home. Her little first aid room at Camp kind of smelled like that medicine that you spray on cuts. She never would send me home though and knew pretty much that I was never sick. One time she pacified me by letting me go upstairs to their 3rd floor, and let me lay down in their bedroom and watch TV...until I felt better. (They lived at the Camp.) The 3rd floor was off limits to us,(after all it was their bedroom and personal space), therefore making it this magical forbidden place in our minds. I still remember the excitement of walking up those steps, knowing that the mystery room would now be seen by my eyes. It just turned out to be a regular nice bedroom but I was still the envy of my camp friends later that day when I got to rub it in their faces that I was allowed to enter that 3rd floor. Now I think about it, I would have done the same thing to get an annoying hypochondriac kid out of my face. Still, it was a cool thing of her to let me do.
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| Camp Tuscaloosa back in the early 80's |
When I entered Middle School, I was a complete, emotional wreck. I was thee easiest target to be made fun of back then.(Which is probably why now I'm prone to rip somebody's face off for even glancing at me wrong.) Back then though, whenever I was made fun of, I would remain quiet and try to escape school somehow. And because I knew that it would be impossible for me to climb out a classroom window and run, I did the next logical thing and would go to the nurse's office with a pretend illness. Mrs. D, being the middle school nurse then, pretty much saw me on a regular basis then; sometimes more than twice a day. She usually would just give me a chewable lemon flavored Maalox which I hated and would take my temperature. The first time she took my temperature at school, she came out with these plastic thermometers, that are called "Tempa-Dots."
I remember looking at those evil little dots on that thing, wondering how the hell I would be able to fake a temperature with that thing. No matter how hard I would suck on that thing, trying to get it hotter, it always came out normal, which I knew it would be from the lack of blue dots on it. If I came back to the nurse's office more than once Mrs. D would make me lay down on a cushioned cot and would send me back to class eventually. I really became so desperate that I taught myself to throw up on my own so I could get sent home. She did send me home at times but I think that she sent me either back to the classroom or back outside so I wouldn't be such a wimp. I can't image what I've would have been like if she had sent me home every time I came to her claiming I was sick again. Maybe I would still be a wimp, scared to speak up for myself. I like to think that because Mrs. D forced me to go back to class, (which she never knew how bad I was ridiculed since I was too ashamed to tell anyone), that I learned eventually not to let anyone walk all over me and not to take people's judgement comments to heart. Even though I had to learn the street way to defend myself, having kids and teaching them the right way to stick up for yourself thankfully gave me the balance to still stand up for myself and not get a disorderly persons/assault charge in the process. Anyway, as I read of Mrs. Dee's passing in the paper today, I remembered her and what a nice lady she was. Even though I hadn't seen her in many years, she had always remained in my childhood memories and always will.
Rest in peace Mrs. D~
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