Jess Stanford is a bit of a hybrid. There is a playfulness in her sly smile and her eyes flash mischief.
And yet, the set of her jaw speaks to her confidence and there is a firmness in her speech that tells you she has big plans.
Stanford works as a bartender at The Princess, but her primary focus is on her education. In December, the West Point native will graduate from Mississippi University for Women with a degree in business administration, with a double minor in marketing and accounting.
This week, Stanford will take a week off from her job to work as a counselor at Camp Rising Sun, a week-long camp for children ages 6 to 16, who have cancer or are cancer survivors. The camp has been in operation since 1988 and, since 1989, has been held at Camp Henry Pratt.
Stanford has been attending the camp for 12 years now, first as a cancer patient and, after turning 17, as a counselor. For the spirited, focused 23-year-old, Camp Rising Sun is one of the highlights of her year.
“It’s never going to happen that I can’t be there,” she says, with steely conviction. “Not if I can help it, anyway.”
The accountant aspect of her personality views her annual trip to the camp in much the same manner as a CPA. She has looked at the balance sheet and has discovered there is an outstanding debt. For Stanford, this week is an installment on that debt.
“I owe my life to the doctors at St. Jude (Children’s Research Center),” she said. “This is my way of giving back.”
Stanford’s first camp came in the summer of 2000. But the path that would lead her there came in the fall of 1999.
It started with something so benign, she and her family didn’t initially give it much thought.
“I started gaining weight,” Stanford said. “Well, with kids that age, that’s no big deal, right?”
When she went to bed, she felt a lump on her right side. But at age 10, she didn’t give that much thought, either.
Then the nausea started.
“I couldn’t hold anything down,” she said. “I would eat and it would come right back up.”
One day after she had suffered yet another bout of nausea at school, the school nurse called her mom to pick her up.
A trip to the doctor’s office, where the doctor felt the lump in her abdomen, led to a trip to the hospital in Columbus where a CAT scan revealed a mass that was almost certain to be a tumor.
Stanford was sent to St. Jude, where doctors were alarmed to discover their 10-year-old patient had ovarian cancer. The tumor was so large, and appeared to be growing so quickly, she was rushed to surgery.
“It was very rare for someone my age to have that type of cancer,” Stanford said. “They had to go up in storage to get the equipment they needed for me.”
Doctors removed the tumor, which measured 10-inches by-6-inches and weighed more than two ounces.
Stanford received treatments for the next three months. On March 10, a month after her 11th birthday, she was pronounced cancer-free. A few years ago, Stanford got a tattoo on her back that featured the St. Jude logo and the date, March 10.
Despite the ordeal, Stanford displayed an extraordinary sense of calm.
“I don’t ever remember crying,” she said. “Maybe being so young helped. Before then, I don’t think I had ever heard the word ‘cancer’ or ‘chemo,’ for that matter. My mom tells me I’m the trooper of the family. I was a very mature kid, I guess.”
Looking forward
After being declared cancer-free, Stanford was eager to get back to her old life. She went back to school, her head still bald from the chemo treatments. It never occurred to her that she should dread seeing the kids at school.
“I may have been bald, but I tell you, I was the prettiest little blue-eyed, bald girl you ever saw,” Stanford said.
Predictably, she was teased by many of her classmates, which wounded her.
“You know how kids can be,” she said.
A few months later, she was off to Camp Rising Sun for the first time.
“Off I went, my little peach-fuzz-headed self,” she said, laughing. “And I loved it from the minute I got there. I’ve loved it every minute since.”
For the first time in a long time, Stanford discovered cancer was not part of the conversation. For the first time in a long time, she felt like a normal kid.
“You are so busy, from sun-up to sun-down, one activity after another, everything from jet skis to rock-climbing to crafts, horseback riding, archery, swimming, fishing,” she said. “Every day it’s something different. We have a talent show every year and a dance, too.
“Really, it’s a chance to have fun and get away from every-day life.”
Stanford knows that, for children with cancer, everyday life can be grim.
She remembers what her life was like while she was a cancer patient.
“Three types of chemo therapy, three times a day,” she said. “Five days a week. For three months. It’s not easy, for sure.”
Stanford is not the only former camper who has stayed on to become a counselor. In fact, it’s quite common.
She said the bonds formed at the camp are lasting.
“Every year, it’s almost like a family reunion,” she says. “A couple of months before camp, everybody will be on Facebook saying, ‘It’s almost time for camp!’ We all get so excited.”
When she graduates this winter, Stanford is looking forward to getting out and seeing a bit of the world. She might go to Colorado, maybe even New York. She is eager to begin what she calls “big-girl life.”
And in the back of her mind, she realizes there may come a day when a trip to Camp Rising Sun isn’t possible.
“I guess when I get my big-girl job, I might have to miss it,” she said. “But I’m coming back, always. I might miss a year here or there, but I’m going to keep going to camp. It means that much to me.”
Slim Smith is a columnist and feature writer for The Dispatch. His email address is [email protected].
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