If necessary, the counselors may put the auto-injector in the child’s hand and “guide” it.

Jean-Pierre Ménard, a Quebec lawyer who specializes in medical rights, told Le Journal de Québec newspaper that the rule – intended to protect the counselors against liability – contravenes Canada’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms, since the Charter says that every human being whose life is in danger has the right to be saved. In addition, he says this “incomprehensible” rule should instead have the City of Quebec worried about prosecution for instructing caregivers, in essence, not to save a child’s life.

Similar restrictive camp policies have arisen in some parts of the United States.

Gervais Bélanger, director-general of Asthme & Allergies Québec, says he finds the day camp rules for not administering auto-injectors “inexplicable”and “unjustified” – since this puts the onus on allergic campers between the ages of 4 and 12 to self-inject at a time when they are having an anaphylactic reaction. (Epinephrine is an emergency medication, and it would be rare for a young child to self-inject.)

Bélanger is one of the members of the Coalition for Megann’s Law, which is urging the Quebec government to pass a law on school food allergy accommodations that would include school staff auto-injector training and preparedness to act in an allergy emergency.

On behalf of the coalition, he has written letters to the Quebec camping association and to the president of the Office of Professions of Quebec, the provincial agency that reviews the regulations adopted by various organizations. Bélanger makes these groups aware of a regulation amendment that the Quebec College of Physicians proposed in June to allow non-medical persons to administer epinephrine auto-injectors.

The College of Physicians has a 45-day commenting period on changes, so while its proposed amendment will clarify the rules for non-medical people caring for allergic children and ultimately should have a positive impact on day camp rules, it won’t help parents and campers this summer.

For Daniella and Mateo, a playdate is just a playdate. A field trip is a field trip. A summer camp is an exciting new opportunity: a time to make friends, spend time outdoors and learn new skills. For Nina, it’s a potential minefield. How do I make sure she has safe foods to eat? Who will step in if something goes wrong? Who will know where her epinephrine is? Who can I trust to not hesitate to use it? Most importantly: what do I do to make sure I get her back home safe and sound?

Summer camps make me more nervous than school, field trips, play dates and other activities because, in my experience, the counselors are often very young and the days are not always very structured. There’s more movement from one activity to another, less routine, less experienced supervision – it all leaves room for error.

Most troubling of all is an emerging trend I’ve noticed in the last couple of years that I hadn’t encountered in my previous six years working on food allergy safety: the reluctance of some summer camps to administer an epinephrine auto-injector, the only life-saving medication available to our kids with food allergies.

Known as the “guiding hand policy”, many food allergy families have encountered summer camp programs that have adopted a practice whereby their employees are told not to administer epinephrine directly to a child in need and instead to make the child hold the auto-injector, so that he or she is technically self-administering the medication. At most, employees are instructed to “guide the hand” of the child experiencing anaphylaxis.

Next page: We can change these wrongheaded policies

At age 7, Alexandra took such delight in being a Girl Scout Brownie. She wore her Brownie vest proudly, earned “Try-It” badges with enthusiasm and sold an impressive number of cookies during the annual sale. The kid was as dedicated as anyone else in her Brownie troop and she deserved this summer adventure. But I wasn’t sold. Was the camp ready for a child with life-threatening allergies to peanuts and tree nuts? Would she be safe?

Since her food allergy diagnosis at age 4, I had vowed to support Alexandra in enjoying normal life activities. Still, summer camp presented several unknowns, including a distant location and a new group of caregivers. Plus, my daughter was still very young. I argued with myself about the pros and cons of each decision. If I let her go to camp, was I risking her health? If I didn’t let her go, was I risking her self-esteem?

Before my husband and I had made a decision, I happened to be chatting with another Girl Scout mom. She was concerned about camp, too. “My daughter is so small,” she explained. “I’m afraid if she sinks in the pool, no one will see her.” That’s when it hit me. Every parent worries about something. Worrying is not exclusive to parents of kids with food allergies. No matter what your situation, it’s not easy to let go. I decided to learn more about the program.

What I found out was encouraging. The camp didn’t serve peanut butter, employed a full-time EMT and trained its staff in EpiPen usage. After more discussion, we decided to give it a go.

When the first day of camp rolled around, my daughter’s eyes sparkled with happiness as she boarded the bus and waved goodbye. And when I picked her up at the end of her first day, she was tanned, tired and happy. I relaxed just a little. Maybe things would be just fine.

But on the second day, the phone rang. I could see it was the camp. My heart raced as I choked out a greeting. “This is the medical office,” said the voice on the line. No! My heart was pounding so hard that I barely heard the next sentence. “Alexandra scraped her foot on the bottom of the pool and was bleeding, so we gave her a Band-Aid. It’s camp policy to report any injuries that result in bleeding.”

I exhaled and hung up. Minor bleeding was definitely preferable to a food allergy emergency. A scraped foot? No problem.

On Day 4, another call from the medical office. I tried not to panic. Turns out, it was just another minor injury, once again resolved with a simple Band-Aid.

On the last day of camp, the Girl Scout leader called me from her cell phone. I was sweating as I answered, convinced that this had to be “The Call.”

“Is Alexandra OK?” I blurted out. “She’s fine!” was the cheerful reply. Apparently, my daughter had been offered a snack at a campfire celebration and wanted to double-check with me before eating it. I was giddy with relief as I thanked the troop’s leader and gave a thumbs-up to the treat.

When I hung up, I couldn’t do anything but laugh. After all of my concern and repeated phone calls from camp, we had made it through the week without a single food allergy emergency. Even better, I now had solid evidence that my daughter was checking foods before eating them – a huge step in her food allergy independence.

That summer, we both gained a lot of confidence about the future. Our camp experience taught me that even though food allergies require planning ahead and certain precautions, they do not define my daughter.

Another important thing I learned? Along with the EpiPen, never forget the Band-Aids.

Jenny Kales is the author of the blog The Nut-Free Mom and a freelance writer who covers parenting topics. She and her husband and two daughters live near Chicago. To comment on this article or to suggest your own Our Story, e-mail us at editor@allergicliving.com.

First published in Allergic Living magazine.
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Read also:

- Managing a Peanut Allergy
- Dating with Allergies
- Flying Tips
- Nut Allergies at School