Donna, my Yom Kippur co-conspirator, and I have made it a tradition to go into UCLA Medical Center on Christmas Day. When people see her two Bichons, Tommy and Finley, and their “cousin” Gus, the joy and relief are almost palpable.
We did the majority of our visits in the Pediatric ICU, one of Donna’s regular units. To say the staff was excited to see us would be an understatement. I can only imagine how difficult it is to be working in the hospital on Christmas, especially with critically ill children.
The nurses kept thanking us for being there. Watching them laughing, hugging the dogs and taking pictures I wanted to say thank you to them. After a few minutes, we started down the hall to cheer up the patients.
A fourteen year old girl with cancer, whom I believe had lost most of her hair to chemo, was sitting up in bed. As soon as Tommy and Finley settled around her, a smile crept onto her face. Then it was Gus’s turn. The smile grew even bigger, as she buried her hand in his hair. Despite being very ill and needing help to pet the dogs, she shared her happiness with us.
During another visit, as the patient, a little girl who badly wanted a dog, was loving on Tommy and Finley, her spirited older brother was trying to get Gus to dance. The hospital is a tough place for siblings.
Some of the special encounters took place from the hall. We were told that a toddler sitting up in a crib loved dogs but she was in isolation so we couldn’t go into her room. When we brought the three dogs to the doorway and had Gus do a trick or two, we heard baby excitement.
One child was neutropenic so again we had to visit from the doorway. It was hard to gauge the response, but as we started to walk away, Donna saw a small hand reach out.
In the lobby we ran into a man pushing his son in a wheelchair. A few weeks prior when Donna had visited, the boy hadn’t been able to pet Tommy and Finley. Christmas was a different story. As we held the dogs up for him to touch we were gifted with two big grins, one from the patient and one from his dad.
All in all, the morning was a priceless gift exchange. The dogs, wrapped in their Christmas bows, brought so much unconditional love and comfort to the hospital. In return, the special moments and small miracles that we were privileged to witness were precious presents for me and Donna.
