Providence Tarzana Hospital – Page 4

From the Pretty Silly to the Profound

This week the Doods and about twenty of their costumed “co-workers” brought Halloween to the kids at UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital. Dressed as everything from superheroes to ballerinas to cowboys, the dogs cheered up so many young patients and their parents. Even the staff got into the festive mood.

ELBEE I would have made a great Superman so why was I wearing those bouncy things on my head. And Gus was a pumpkin! Really? A pumpkin?

By the way, awhile ago Gus was thinking of renting an apartment with Tommy, his Bichon buddy, to get away from Stanley. Well I’m also thinking of relocating. Tommy’s person Donna dressed like a shepherd and let Tommy and his new sister Finley be her sheep, ergo no silly costumes. I wonder if she has an extra room.

GUS I think I’m going with him. Finley is little and cute and it seems like she kind of likes me. Plus, I don’t know if it’s my imagination but Stanley seems to be getting bigger every day. I’m concerned.

The Halloween excitement was actually a welcome change of pace from some very challenging visits that Gus and Elbee had done only a few days before. At UCLA, a palliative care specialist had tracked us down for an elderly woman who was desperately requesting a dog visit. She was in extreme pain but when Gus put his paws on the side of her bed, it seemed to bring her immediate comfort.

At Providence Tarzana Hospital, a rabbi asked us to stop in to see a young woman who was battling cancer. She was having an emotionally rough morning. Clearing it with the doctor, I brought the dogs in to see her. As Gus cuddled on the bed with her and Elbee stood by her side for petting, she was relaxed and chatting. The woman’s mother was visiting at the time and her relief was almost palpable.

That same morning, one of Tarzana’s palliative care specialists asked if we’d stop in to see the family of a man who was dying. They didn’t think he’d make it through the day. As we got to the door of the room, we were greeted so warmly and appreciatively by a man and a woman whom I believed to be the patient’s son and his wife.

For the next few minutes, we quietly talked as they interacted with the dogs. There was a sense of calm and connection. When it was time for us to leave, we all hugged goodbye. It was such a natural reaction that it was hard to believe only a short time before we had been total strangers.

Diva Doods…Born that Way?

After writing about the divadom of the dogs last week, I started wondering if it was a Doodle thing or if it could possibly be me.

I’ve admitted that as a child, I was a total nerd. I considered posting one of my nerd photos here as proof, but that would be oversharing even for me. Finding bodybuilding as part of a long and difficult recovery from a near fatal car accident was like a rebirth. It turned me into somewhat of a diva.

ELBEE Somewhat?

I went from being terrified of speaking in front of a group of people to blowing kisses to the audience. I went from visibly shaking on stage to flexing my triceps for more applause. And while I’m being totally honest, yes, those old habits die hard. Last week, I was in the lobby of Providence Tarzana Hospital with the Doods, when someone called out, “Didn’t you used to be a bodybuilder?” I probably should have been embarrassed but instead, it was all I could do not to flex.

ELBEE & GUS Thank heavens she restrained herself.

Speaking of flexing, I was in the kitchen when I heard a song on tv that reminded me of my glory days. Ariana Grande was singing “Natural Woman” as a tribute to Aretha Franklin. By coincidence, I had used that same song for a routine in a long ago competition. I got so nostalgic, I figured since no one was watching, I’d hit a few poses.

ELBEE & GUS We were watching and we were disturbed. Stanley, on the other hand, is scarred for life.

Maybe that’s why I feel like the Doods and I are such a good fit. I’m a reborn diva and they were born that way. Recently, Elbee and Gus took part in a People Animal Connection photo shoot at UCLA. The PAC dogs were doing pictures for birthday cards and for the annual calendar. I guess you could technically say there were costume changes involved.

ELBEE The pictures are fabulous but I’m a little disappointed. When I heard “costume changes,” I was expecting Bob Mackie and bling.

Stanley showed glimpses of his inner diva at Elbee’s last vet appointment. (A Pack of Diva Doodles).Then it resurfaced in puppy class. Katie, the trainer, asked to use Stanley to demonstrate how your dog should return to you when called, sitting nicely and not jumping all over you. At first Stanley went for the jump but after only a couple of times of Katie turning her back, Stanley came bouncing over and sat perfectly.

Usually when the dogs do something right in class, people will nod or smile. Not with Stanley. I’m not sure if it was the cuteness factor or his enthusiasm, but everyone in the room applauded. As Marsha, the groomer, commented when I told her about it, “Stanley had his first real diva moment.”

Gratitude

There’s something about Gus that makes the kids in the hospital want to keep him. I think it’s the cute, cuddly factor plus he fits in their laps. Even Metta World Peace felt the same way last week. By the way, that’s a tough post to follow.

Awhile ago, a little boy in the neuropsych unit at UCLA very seriously offered me $68.00 for him. I told him that I was so sorry but couldn’t sell Gus for any price. This week two boys in the teen unit really wanted to buy him. When I shared with them about the boy who had offered me $68.00, I was impressed by their reaction. They truly understood how much that amount of money must have meant to him. Then the bidding war started. When I turned down a million, one of them even went up to a trillion!

ELBEE I bet she she was tempted.

The interchange was light and fun. It totally took us out of the hospital setting. It made me think, as I often do, about the priceless work of therapy dogs. They may perform in different ways and in different settings but the heart of what they do is the same.

They offer comfort from pain, whether physical or emotional. They calm and soothe. They may even coax a reluctant smile or an unexpected laugh from someone having a rough day. They distract from a difficult reality

At times the challenges they face are almost incomprehensible. My cousin, whose sons graduated from Majorie Stoneman Douglas High School, told me that a team of Golden Retrievers had been brought in to offer comfort to the survivors of the mass shooting. Sadly, there are so many places in this country where they are needed right now.

There is a mirror with a message on the wall at Providence Tarzana Hospital that speaks so beautifully to the work of the dogs. It says, “Look at who’s making a difference. You have the power to be a healing presence in someone’s life today.” I tried a selfie with Gus but got mixed results.

ELBEE She really should have let me handle the photography.

On this Memorial Day weekend, a time of remembrance, respect and reflection, I feel such gratitude to be on the path where the dogs have led me. It’s hard to believe the journey began in 2006 when my beloved Charley taught me about pure kindness. He was also a mentor to Elbee and especially to Gus.

In the past, I’ve shared my feeling that his spirit still guides us. Nicole, the daughter in the first picture with Gus, took this amazing photo. You may think the halo is the light at a special time of day. I believe it’s Charley’s way of letting us know that he is keeping a loving watch over Gus.

For Manny

When I think of Manny Kaddour, I think of smiles. Despite the difficult nature of his work as a palliative care physician at Providence Tarzana Hospital, he always greeted everyone with a smile. With his joyful aura and enthusiasm for life, he never failed to put a smile on my face whenever I ran into him. He had the biggest heart and the most beautiful spirit.

Manny and the Doods had a mutual admiration society. No matter what he was dealing with, he always took a moment to hug the dogs and to tell them how much he loved them. They adored him in return.

As someone who cared for critically ill patients, often near the end of their lives, he truly understood and respected the unconditional love and support that they offered. I also think they provided him with a much needed time out from his day. And Manny had a sense of humor. With a twinkle in his eye, he often asked me if he could borrow the dogs because they were such “chick magnets.”

Manny passed away on March 25th at the age of 49. How ironic that someone who was so full of life and who showed such kindness and compassion for others as they passed, has left us so soon. It’s hard for me to find the words to express how much he will be missed, the void he will leave in so many lives.

Instead, I want to share some of Manny’s own words that I hope will offer comfort to all of us who are mourning his untimely passing. A year ago, after my gentle giant Charley died, Manny reached out in sympathy. He sent me this photo of himself with Charley and Gus along with a life-affirming message.

“Hi. This is Manny Kaddour from Tarzana. You are in my mind…thinking of you. It is the time to celebrate the life and remember the great times and smiles he put on thousands of faces including mine. Thanks for everything you have done. Love you.”

Thank you Manny for everything you have done. May you rest in peace.

They Work Hard for No Money

Psychologists often talk about over programming your children with school, lessons, extra-curricular activities etc. It made me think. Is it possible to over program your dog?

Recently, the Doods visited five places over the course of a week, including UCLA Medical Center and Providence Tarzana Hospital. To cap it off, they cheered up my friend Roberta who continues her brave fight against brain cancer.

They say a dog needs a job but did I give them too many jobs? Despite the fact that I may have overbooked them, Elbee and Gus never complained. They were ready to go. There was no judgment, no hesitation… no guilt trip. Actually the only time I get attitude is if I leave them alone for too long.

Whether it was a disturbed child who offered a clumsy hug or a bedridden patient who simply needed them to sit quietly for petting, they knew exactly what to do. Dogs seem to have an innate ability to offer comfort without expectation. Financial consideration aside, how many of us would work simply for a smile or a thank you?

People sometimes say the dogs couldn’t do it without me, but I never lose sight of the fact that it’s always about them. After all, they’re called therapy dogs and I’m called a handler. Okay, if I’m going to be perfectly honest it’s nice to have someone say “bless you” to me when I haven’t sneezed, but I know that I’m in a supporting role.

Since dogs don’t complain it really is the handler’s job to care for and protect them. It’s to make sure they’re happy and not getting too tired. It’s to watch for the look in their eyes, the droopy tail. They do the heavy lifting. The handlers do the security.

Years ago a woman, who was going through orientation to bring her dog into UCLA, shadowed me and Charley. At the end of our “rounds,” she quietly confided that she was a little shy and was afraid she’d have problems interacting with patients. I assured her that with her dog guiding her it would never be an issue.

This morning as I was walking Elbee and Gus, I couldn’t stop thinking about how unselfishly they had worked that week, wondering if I’d done the right thing. Just then, by chance, I met Gilbert, an older man with a very gentle demeanor. He thought he recognized us from UCLA and stopped to chat.

Turns out that Gilbert is not only a dog lover, he also has the utmost respect for them and a belief that they need a purpose, a job. As a volunteer helping the blind, he has come into contact with several seeing eye dogs. He told me that he is amazed at their intuition and all they do for their people. He also shared that he has been studying the psychology of dogs. He confirmed what had just been running though my head. He said they were one of the only species that would put humans before themselves.

It may have been coincidence that we ran into Gilbert, but sometimes the universe works in unusual ways. You cross paths with a stranger and have a brief but meaningful connection. It’s as if the universe can read your mind.

Happy New Year from Me and the Doods

In many ways 2017 was a difficult year. I hope that recapping the work accomplished by the Doods and their fellow therapy dogs will help us all focus on the positives in the world.

From meeting Lakers Brandon Ingram and Larry Nance Jr. as we all brought Halloween to the patients at Mattel Children’s Hospital to helping Santa at Providence Tarzana’s adopt a family day, the Doods and I were fortunate to take part in so many amazing events. Still, I will only write about one as I look back on the year because I want to focus on the quieter, less seen moments. They are the true heart of what our dogs so unselfishly accomplish.

The UCLA student athlete event in March was bittersweet because it turned out to be Charley’s last “job.” He interacted with everyone with his usual grace and sweetness, little Gus by his side. At one point, I had the privilege of walking through the campus hall of fame. As entranced as I was with room after room of gleaming athletic awards and trophies, I was most taken with the portrait of the legendary John Wooden. In retrospect, there is a beauty in knowing that my legendary therapy dog spent his last evening in such a special place.

As I recall meaningful moments, I see the face of the man at the adult health center who was smiling for the first time in a year. I also see the beaming face of the young man whose hands are severely crippled but who loves to have me put treats between his fingers for Gus.

I see anxious parents sitting in the small waiting room outside of the UCLA neuropsych units. Recently, as we were leaving, the mother of a very disturbed young girl told me how much her daughter adores the dogs and how much she talks about them. With a wistful smile she simply said, “thank you for visiting.”

Neither the staff who were watching or I will ever forget Elbee’s interaction with a young patient who had been out of control and screaming, and according to the therapists, “a danger to self and others.” Within a matter of minutes the child went from petting Elbee and applauding his tricks to dropping down on the floor to teach him how to take a bow.

This year there were countless times outside of the hospital when the Doods suddenly brightened someone’s day. We were walking past a market when a teenage boy, who was working outside picking up carts, saw the dogs and got a huge grin on his face. Petting them, he asked if it was okay to give them a hug. When I assured him that it was fine, he wrapped his arms around them and said, “My heart feels warmer.”

My son-in-law Jay, who is wonderful despite being a self-admitted cat person, perhaps put it best. He said that when I’m out with the dogs, “random acts of positivity seem to circle around us.”

Wishing everyone a year of peace, love and positivity!

My Inner Grinch

I have been known to indulge my inner Grinch during the holiday season. I guess you could call it my inner kvetch during Chanukah. And yes, I still binge watch Hallmark Channel movies as an antidote. But I’m afraid I may have weakened. I was about to put up a post that had absolutely nothing to do with this time of year. Then I realized I’d be sharing it on Christmas and I caved.

In retrospect I should have saved the post about caroling at UCLA or the one about the Adopt a Family program at Providence Hospital. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that far ahead. Instead I want to share a day with the Doods that for me epitomizes what this season should be about.

On Thursday morning we went to the Adult Health Center. There was a Christmas tree and there were some decorations but nothing brightened up the large room like Elbee and Gus. It didn’t matter if the participants were old or young, suffering from bipolar disorder or depression, so many just wanted to pet the dogs or hug them. A few followed us around.

An elderly woman who seemed distracted suddenly focused and told me they made her so happy. Another whispered in Spanish that they were angels.

ELBEE Finally somebody got it right.

I also found out that the quiet man who smiled for the first time in a year when he was with the dogs a few weeks ago, only smiles when they’re visiting.

After leaving the center, we drove over to see my dear friend Roberta, the one who has been battling brain cancer. She is a warrior if ever I’ve seen one. Never a complainer, she admitted how rough the treatment has been. After we chatted for awhile, the Doods took over. They love her and she loves them. I know she sneaks them treats whenever I’m not looking. For a brief time they make her forget about everything except them.

On the way home, with my two exhausted dogs in the car, it struck me just how many gifts they had given. Every single one was unselfish and priceless.

The next morning at a yoga class, Rebecca, the teacher, suggested dedicating our practice to some purpose or intent. Surprisingly, the first thought that came into my head was family and not dogs so I was kind of torn.

ELBEE That’s not funny.

Then Rebecca suggested focusing on gratitude and it made perfect sense. I apologize for any cliches or repetition but hey where’s your holiday spirit?

Working with the dogs, especially during this season, has taught me to be grateful. Seeing so many people who are slowed down by illness or injury, I feel fortunate to have my health. I am appreciative that I can write these posts even when I struggle. And yes, I truly am grateful for my family and friends.

I realized that being with the dogs as they help so many people is apparently giving therapy to my holiday spirit or lack there of. Uh oh. Are they killing my inner Grinch?

I Love this Day

Holiday spirit came to Providence Tarzana Medical Center this week. As part of the “Adopt a Family” program the staff helped less fortunate people fill their wish/need lists. There were piles of beautifully wrapped presents. I saw nothing but smiles on everyone’s faces. I think we all felt as if we were celebrating the true meaning of Christmas and Chanukah.

Representatives from Reseda High School and One Generation were on hand to collect the gifts for distribution. Also on hand were the fabulous Doods and Annie a darling Poodle, another hospital therapy dog. There was no singing involved which is probably why they let me participate.

ELBEE For the record, she has never called me “darling.”

There was also a very special guest joining in the festivities. It was none other than Santa Claus. After the gifts were loaded up to be delivered to deserving families in the community, Santa headed to the sixth floor to hand out presents to the young patients in pediatrics.

At first the kids squealed in delight to see Santa and were so excited about the toys. Then suddenly they noticed the dogs coming down the hall and it was all over for Santa.

ELBEE No one steals the show from this diva, not even Santa

I happen to know this particular Santa personally. In the “off “season he’s a wonderful firefighter named Mitch. He was laughing and said that he couldn’t believe he was taking a back seat to the dogs. I told him, “That’s just great. The therapy dogs will give Santa issues and send him for therapy.” Can you imagine my Jewish guilt?

Even Santa Mitch, who actually has a therapy dog of his own, realized that the dogs were working their Christmas magic. Their was such joy as they walked into the rooms. Kids were hopping out of their beds to cuddle with them. As much as they loved seeing Santa and receiving their presents, it was petting the dogs that brought the biggest grins.

One little boy just touched my heart. He had been very busy building Legos in his bed but was quietly happy when the dogs came in to see him. A few minutes later he walked out into the hall and received a gift from Santa but quickly came back to the dogs. Hugging Gus, he looked around as if trying to take it all in. Then, with the sweetest expression on his face he said, “I love this day.”

Pre-cooked Turkey and Other Things I’m Grateful For

This year we celebrated casual Thanksgiving with just the immediate family and the dogs. I am appreciative of so much but I want to overshare some of the things that made this particular holiday special for me. Feel free to judge.

Shout out to Gelson’s for their pre-cooked turkey. It was delicious and also saved me from having to deal with a raw turkey and all of those terrifying things you have to pull out before cooking.
My stuffing and praline sweet potatoes and my granddaughter Samantha’s cheese bread were so good that no one thought about the pre-cooked turkey. Did you ever realize how little credit you get for cooking a turkey?

ELBEE Pack Leader really has issues with that turkey. Wonder if it’s a childhood thing.

Four year old Bella, the one who calls me “Grandma with the dogs,” was much braver with Elbee, going so far as to pet and even brush him. Gus is small and cute so has never been a problem. Riley our Golden is fourteen and too old to be scary but she used to view Elbee like Cujo. The jury is still out for her younger brother.

Let’s hear it for paper plates. I know it is totally tacky but no one had to do dishes.
My thirteen year old grandson Ryan informed me I should be glad that at his age he still likes to talk to me. We even fist bumped.
Ryan and Samantha’s adorable Havanese JoJo blended in with our pack. I spent the first hour with Elbee leashed to me but then all was good.

ELBEE That was humiliating!

I love this photo of my son-in-law Dan and the dogs watching football. I am also happy that I got to share it here. Jennifer, the lawyer daughter, threatened to sue, but Dan, also a lawyer, gave me permission to use it.

Speaking of photos, the UCLA People Animal Connection is doing a calendar. Guess who’s November? And yes, I am still a stage mother.

GUS I know I’m a good sport but I didn’t realize those were turkey legs on my head. I may need to go back into therapy.

ELBEE OMG I just saw this other picture. Gus looks like Yoda.

On a more serious note, I am grateful for a visit to a sixteen year old patient at Providence Tarzana on the day after Thanksgiving. As soon as the Doods walked into her room she jumped up from her bed and dropped onto the floor next to them. The mom, almost in tears, said, “I can’t believe she got up. We haven’t been able to get her to move.” Then the mom confessed that she was standing on the far side of the room because she was terrified of dogs. When I asked if she wanted us to leave, she replied, “Absolutely not. My daughter is up and smiling.”
Above all, having lost my parents and brother long ago, I am so deeply grateful for all of the chaos, love and caring that is my family.

Gus Tries Harder

I was planning to write a more serious post this week. Then two things happened to change my mind. First, I woke up to Riley, our Golden Retriever, vomiting. Then I made the mistake of watching the morning news while I was eating breakfast. I really needed to lighten up. I started thinking about all of the positive reactions to the dogs, of course when they’re not vomiting.

Wednesday, at UCLA with Elbee, I realized that he doesn’t really have to try very hard. By virtue of being a large beautiful dog, he can simply walk into the hospital lobby and have everyone notice him. It’s like a supermodel stepping onto the runway. The attention and the smiles are automatic.

ELBEE Supermodel! Moi? I wonder if Project Runway takes dogs?

Tiny dogs, on the other hand, get by on their adorable quotient. Plus you can pick them up so everyone can see them.

Which brings me to Gus. Technically, at 30 pounds, he isn’t a large dog or a tiny dog. He’s kind of stuck in the middle. Not to mention, if you look at these pictures, you can see that it looks awkward, not cute, if you attempt to hold him.

ELBEE That is just embarrassing.

Even though Gus has the sweetest temperament, as a medium size dog, he has to try harder. He bursts into the hospital as if he’s arriving at a birthday party. Smiling, volunteering his tricks, wagging his tail and sometimes his whole body, he’s like the ice cream, the cake and the entertainment all rolled into one.

Whereas Elbee and other large dogs will usually wait patiently to be petted, Gus is a bit more proactive. He’s mastered the art of the “dog hug.” I know that he should probably keep his paws on the floor, but he’s so gentle and cute that people love it. It’s kind of like the Charley “lean.”

On Friday, when I took the dogs to Providence Tarzana Hospital, the kids in the day room on Pediatrics got the best of both worlds. They were petting Elbee as he lay patiently on the floor and they were cuddling with Gus like the Teddy Bear Doodle that he is. When the dogs did their tricks, the patients, their families and the staff responded with giggles and applause. Seeing all of their delighted faces, I could tell that the size of the dog really didn’t matter.

As much as they shine, I truly believe that all of our therapy dogs, no matter their size, put so much of themselves, of their own energy, into helping and healing that it’s exhausting. When they get home from work, the first thing they do is take a well deserved nap…something Gus and Elbee like to do together. They’re a bundle of comfort.