UCLA – Page 6 – Me and the Doods.com

Perspective

Henry, our newest addition, is a great puppy but he is still waking up before the sun. The other morning, while I was feeling like a sleep deprived zombie, I received a very important text.

At first I assumed it was from a relative or friend on the east coast because of the time difference. Instead it was from my dear friend and hairdresser extraordinaire, Brian, letting me know that he had an appointment available to color my hair.

ELBEE Shocker, she’s not a natural blonde!

I think I surprised Brian when I texted back a short time later to confirm. Hey, it’s my hair! I added that I thought we were both up way too early. Brian’s response was so positive it almost made me look at daybreak from a different perspective.

He wrote, “I love the mornings. God gives us the peace before the day unfolds, kinda like we ease into the chaos.” Could I possibly convince myself that it was fun to get up with Henry when it was still dark out?

ELBEE Probably not.

During a recent visit to UCLA, I had not so much a change in perspective as a greater awareness of what our dogs can accomplish. COVID has forced us to do countless Zoom calls over the past year and a half, and even to cancel planned visits, so it’s very special when we can actually go into the hospital.

As Stanley and I walked into our regular units in Resnick Neuropsych the joy was almost palpable. The kids under twelve and then the teens were so responsive. They shared stories about their pets. They sang when Stanley and I danced. They played along to “who wore it best” when I put silly sunglasses on me and Stanley. It was if they were just hanging out and having fun.

Then I noticed an older boy trying to help a younger one who seemed to have more severe problems. He was encouraging him to join in and to pet Stanley. It was a stark reminder that we were in a hospital and that the kids were dealing with serious issues.

That particular day, more than one therapist took me aside to tell me how grateful and relieved they were to have the dogs back. They said it was just not the same without them. The dogs relax the kids and bring out a much different energy… an energy they don’t usually see.

I have never taken the positive behavior of the kids for granted. When they chatter and laugh, it’s music to my ears. Still, hearing from the professionals who are treating them, puts it in a much larger perspective. It confirms how important the dogs are in the healing process. It fills me with a sense of gratitude and wonder.

Every Day Is National Dog Day

Last Thursday was National Dog Day but anyone who has ever loved a dog knows that everyday is National Dog Day.

ELBEE That’s a given.

Dogs have been a part of my life as far back as I can remember. In my early pictures there always seemed to be a dog in my stroller.

ELBEE I hate to judge but she was a pretty unattractive toddler. Her mother put them there so that people could say “how cute,” without having to lie. Remember, it was before photoshop.

About fifteen years ago, my love and respect for dogs rose to a whole new level when Charley, my first therapy dog, came into my life. I will never forget how brave I felt walking into UCLA with him by my side or the smiles that greeted us. Thinking about his first bed visit with a woman waiting for a heart transplant still fills me with wonder.

Over the past month or so, sitting outside early in the morning with Henry has given me time to reflect. It’s very peaceful and quiet. I think about Charley and Elbee who are gone.

ELBEE We are gone but never will be forgotten if I have anything to do with it.

I also think about Gus and Stanley who have done so many Zoom calls over the pandemic that I’ve lost count. A few weeks ago when restrictions were slightly lifted, I was so grateful to take them in to see the kids in the neuropsych units in person. Two of those visits have stuck with me.

One was with a teenage girl who had lost her dog and started crying as soon as she saw Stanley. He immediately walked over and began leaning on her and kissing her face as she wrapped her arms around him. The other was with a teenage boy who was simply missing his own dog and had a similar interaction.

What really brought it home to me was their response the next time I came in and brought Gus. The two teens lit up at seeing him. Then each of them quietly shared with me how much Stanley had helped them.

The other morning, as the moon was setting, I had my own therapy dog moment. Tired from getting up so early with Henry but getting a kick out of watching him wrestle and run laps with Gus and Stanley, I made a huge mistake.

I started to read the newspaper which seems to be filled with nothing but depressing and anxiety provoking stories. Somehow the dogs sensed the change in mood. They stopped romping and cuddled around me.

Inspired by moments like that, I celebrate them every day. They are kind and loving heroes.

When Life Hands You Lemons, Make Lemonade

ELBEE Where does she come up with these titles?

Over the past month or so, after having been out of the hospital for over a year, Gus and Stanley were allowed to visit their regular neuropsych units. COVID protocol had changed some things but what absolutely remained the same was the rush of joy when the dogs walked in.

Then last week we took a giant step backwards. With the Delta variant raising its ugly head, we (the husband included), decided it was not really safe to bring them in. It made me so sad because the smiles, and even the tears, of some of the kids had reminded me how much it meant to them to see the dogs in person.

Talking to Jen, the manager of the People Animal Connection, I asked if we were still doing Zoom calls. I surprised myself because I am the same person who had so many problems with the technology.

ELBEE She had a Zoom meeting with a large group of nurses with no audio.

When Jen assured me that it was no problem, I had a brilliant idea. Why not take advantage of the situation and include Henry. Who wouldn’t like to see a three month old puppy? I was truly going to make lemonade out of lemons.

ELBEE Oy

On Wednesday morning when I logged in for the call, all three of the dogs were sitting in the usual spot on the bedroom floor in front of my laptop. I had Henry on a leash, assuming I would need that to keep him with us.

ELBEE The truth is she didn’t want him running around and peeing.

I needn’t have worried. Henry follows his “brothers” everywhere and stayed right with them, vying for screen time. Who knew he had an inner diva! If I thought my early calls were chaotic, they were a snooze fest compared to Henry joining in the fun.

This turned out to be a positive. From all of the virtual visits we’ve done over the past year, I’ve learned that the kids enjoy it a lot more when the dogs are acting up. They’d rather see them wrestling than doing a perfect sit. Having Henry on the call was a gift. He even made the teens laugh.

And here’s the Henry update that you’ve all been waiting for. He went for his checkup this week and now weighs in at 25 pounds of adorable puppy.

My granddaughter Samantha bonded with him in July and August. What a difference a month makes!😄

Happy Tears

With the world slowly reopening, Gus and Stanley have returned to work, doing what they do best. Every time I watch their interactions, I am reminded of what a gift it is to share them in person. After months of trial and error the Zoom calls were almost fun but there is nothing like the smile on a patient’s face when a dog walks into the room.

Aside from the overall joy and positivity, there are always moments that stand out. Gus, along with his UCLA “co-workers,” Winston and Izzy, visited the migrant children who are still being housed at the Long Beach Convention Center.

Groups of kids were brought outside, their situation temporarily fading away as they played with the dogs. Gus loved being the center of attention. Then I walked him over to see a young girl who was off to the side with a bandaged leg, sitting in a wheel chair. As he leaned against her and she petted him, he took a break from the excitement. He just wanted to stay right next to her.

The woman who was assisting the girl looked up at me and said, “He’s knows she’s in pain and he wants to help.” Hearing that, the child suddenly got tears in her eyes.

This past week a few teams were back at UCLA visiting their regular units. While Gus cheered up patients and staff in neuropsych, his best buddy Tommy was in the Pediatric ICU with his person Donna.

Working with critically ill children takes a toll, so those nurses really need the stress relief. They are incredibly appreciative of the dogs. One of the nurses, who remembered Tommy from prior visits, was so happy to see him that she teared up as she hugged him.

A few days ago, hiking down a trail, lost in thought, processing all that’s been going on, I met a man who was walking up with a very sweet Pit Bull. Since it was getting warm and I was almost done, I asked if he needed any extra water for his dog. He assured me that he had plenty, then added “Thank you for your kindness.

This stranger said it so simply and so sincerely but isn’t that what it’s all about. We may choose to be kind to each other but the dogs do it without hesitation. Their pure kindness is truly a gift of love and comfort.

A Warm Welcome Back

This week, for the first time in nearly sixteen months, five teams from the UCLA People Animal Connection returned to the hospital. It was a joyous occasion. The dogs were so excited to see each other and greeted each other like old friends. There was even a bark or two, something you rarely hear.

After a few photos, we went our separate ways to do some in-person visits. Walking though the hospital with Stanley at my side felt so familiar yet so new. The months we’d been away faded into the distance.

Faces lit up as we paused at nurses’ stations. I lost count of how many times I heard. “thank goodness the dogs are back.” Some shared difficult COVID stories and, although they totally understood, said how much the dogs would have helped.

We stopped to visit with a toddler who clung shyly to her dad, but who peeked out when Stanley did a few tricks. Then we went into a room where Stanley did his first bed visit in over a year. He remembered to step gently as he lay down on the blanket we’d placed by the patient’s side.

With Stanley relaxing next to him, the young man showed me videos of his German Shepherd while his mom looked on smiling. I had almost forgotten the power of a simple bed visit.

In a serendipitous moment, we were getting off an elevator and there was my son-in-law’s brother who is truly family. I hadn’t seem him since pre-pandemic and had no idea that his job brought him to UCLA. It was a reunion that fit the mood of the morning.

No return would be complete without our Subway in the basement, so after finishing our “rounds,” Jen, the manager of PAC, and I headed downstairs. We were having lunch and talking about how amazing it was to be back, when she received a text that a palliative care patient needed a visit.

We immediately went up to the ICU to see the 94 year old man who was going home on hospice care. The patient was slightly agitated but his wife talked quietly to me as she petted Stanley. It was another reminder of how much the dogs had been missed and how much we had missed being there.

For all of us who brought our dogs in on Thursday and for those teams that will be returning in the near future, I say thank you for the warm welcome. Thank you to the staff, to the patients and to their families. We are so grateful to be back.

Tennis Anyone?

Over the past pandemic year with activities so limited, there were weeks when I wondered if I’d have anything to write. I mean did people really want to hear about me lounging around in sweats watching Hallmark movies with Gus and Stanley? Fortunately, as the husband says, I have the gift of making something out of nothing.

ELBEE I absolutely agree although I don’t know if I’d call it a gift. This is the same woman who wrote “Sequins & Schmatas.”

Now, as we cautiously move forward, the Doods are getting so busy that I hardly know where to begin. Tuesday they had their annual calendar shoot at UCLA.

Since the dogs won’t officially be back into the hospital until next week, it was once again held outside in the Peace Garden. Last year, when the theme was movies, Gus and Stanley posed as a bride and groom for Man’s Best Friends’s Wedding.

For 2022 the theme is the Olympics. Guess who posed as gold medal tennis players?

GUS I was quite comfortable as a bride but I think the tennis player is more me.

All of a sudden, we had a surprise visit from Ursula, a wonderful therapist and a favorite of the Doods. We have worked together as far back as Charley. I will never forget the Irish saying she shared when he passed. She e-mailed, “We will not see his like again.”

Spotting us from the lobby, she popped out to say hello. Being able to hug and visit in person was another reminder of all that we’ve been missing.

On Saturday, I brought Gus to UCLA to help out with Pet Partners testing. Jack Barron, my mentor extraordinaire in all things dog therapy, was in town to do some evaluations. He needed what’s called a “neutral” dog for one part of the test and Gus was perfect.

It was really a full circle kind of morning. Fifteen years ago, when I attended the Pet Partners workshop that was the beginning step in my therapy dog journey, Jack was the instructor. He was there when Gus tested for his first certification. Now Gus was helping him certify other special dogs.

Jack was also the one who brought Gus into my life. When he found out that a family had to rehome a puppy with the sweetest temperament, he gave me a call. The rest as they say, is history.

ELBEE Seriously, that’s the best she could come up with?

Being back at the hospital really brought home how much I’ve missed our visits. I loved the smiles on people’s faces when they saw the dogs. I loved seeing teams from the People Animal Connection for the first time in over a year.

It also made me think about the priceless friendships of people like Ursula and Jack. I am so grateful to them and to all of the others on staff who have offered their support through the years. It is a joy to be returning.

Call Me Pollyanna

ELBEE If she’s Pollyanna then call me Santa Claus.

I was very touched to receive unexpected messages from friends who told me how I’d helped them navigate this past year. I guess sharing my crazy, unpredictable journey through COVID let people know that they were not alone.

ELBEE I think oversharing would be more appropriate.

This week with restrictions lightened there has been an air of cautious optimism. Yet attitudes still range from “I’m ready to go to dinner and a movie,” to “I’m wearing a mask forever.”

The uncertainty is its own challenge. At the market all of the “keep your distance” markers are gone. Masks are only mandatory for those who aren’t vaccinated but how do we know? How do we move forward? How can I help?

ELBEE I’m so confused.

I thought the best way was to get in touch with my inner Pollyanna and share some positives.

For instance, take this sign that I saw on a street leading up to the hiking trails.

ELBEE Notice how it’s cropped. You don’t want to know what else was posted.

I saw a notice on someone’s lawn to clean up after your dogs. To my surprise, they provided a roll of poop bags.

ELBEE I have to admit that was considerate although a bit embarrassing.

This art work, painted on a wall in the mountains, has remained untouched for years. Normally it would have been defaced. I guess it’s technically graffiti but it’s a timeless message and so fitting right now.

Kudos to the security guard who stays tirelessly at her post keeping watch on the delivery area of a local golf club. She has a smile and a wave for everyone who walks by. She has become a favorite of Gus and Stanley.

Lately, I began wearing two random, mismatched heart necklaces. It somehow felt right. I had them on last week when the husband and I met the oldest daughter and our granddaughter Samantha at the Huntington Library in Pasadena. The art gallery was closed but the beautiful gardens were in full display.

On our way out we stopped in the gift store where we saw a simple but perfect necklace. It was a thin chain with the word “love” in the middle. Samantha and I each got one and promised we’d think about each other when we wore them

Since things were going so well with the necklaces, and Samantha is an expert at TikTok, I asked her how she’d feel about making a video of me and Stanley dancing. The look on her face said it all. I guess despite the love and the necklace, grandma doing the fox trot with her dog was not something she really wanted to share with all of her friends.

Our Pandemic Journey

My friend Donna, human mom to Gus’s buddies Tommy and Finley, said that my blog over the past year has been like a journal of the COVID experience. I started looking at old posts and realized just how much the pandemic had influenced almost everything that I’d written.

This opening paragraph from “The Universe is Knocking” on March 6, 2020, is my first real acknowledgment of what was happening. “The universe truly seems to have gone crazy this week. COVID-19 is causing fear, chaos, and plain old stress. People are in masks. Market shelves are empty. Restaurants are closed.” Still, I was almost naive about the extent of what was to come.

For a time, with all of the death and devastation, I felt it might not be appropriate to write my posts, but friends encouraged me to keep at it. They needed the break and sometimes a lighter perspective.

For instance, in the spirit of honesty, I wondered if the masks were making us look younger.

ELBEE That’s a no brainer. When she hikes maskless now she’s getting more of those “good job” comments reserved for old people on the trails.

I shared photos of the touching and sometimes funny chalk art that popped up. It was a way for people to communicate while still staying distanced.

When the shelter in place orders went into effect, the time we’d all spent with our dogs in the past paled in comparison. Gus and Stanley couldn’t go into the hospital but they became my personal therapy dogs 24/7. I even used them in my exercise routines.

GUS & STANLEY It was exhausting.

I wrote quite a bit about Zoom. As if reality wasn’t hard enough, all of a sudden “virtual” reality was a thing. Gus and Stanley began doing regular Zoom visits with the kids in the neuropsych units at UCLA while I, like so many others, struggled with technology.

Having them just sit in front of the computer wasn’t going to cut it, so out came the hats. sunglasses and ties. No trick was too silly if it made the kids laugh. On the bright side, would I ever have danced with Stanley if not for those visits?

ELBEE Probably.

Over the past year, aside from sharing the positive moments, I have also been honest about the emotional challenges. Depression, anxiety and insomnia have been much more prevalent. We are all trying to cope.

Now that we are slowly coming-out of it, there is still so much confusion and uncertainty.

ELBEE Like do you put on make up if you’re not sure if you’re going to be wearing a mask?

Seriously, as this difficult journey is winding down, let’s continue to offer each other compassion and support. Let’s lead with love and kindness.

(Photo by Doug Morrow😀)

Subway in the Basement

One morning, while the Doods were at the “spa,” I received a text from Jen, the groomer, that she wanted to talk to me about Gus. Of course I panicked, thinking that she had found something wrong.

As it turned out, she was concerned about his mental health. This was before any in-person visits were possible and Gus was missing his work. He wasn’t himself. Like so many people who were suffering from anxiety and depression after the ever changing challenges of COVID, Gus seemed to be having the same issues.

ELBEE I got him to call a mental health hot line but they didn’t speak dog.

It made perfect sense. Our pets have had a strange year just like we have. We’ve spent lots of time with them but their normal interactions have been limited. This is especially true for therapy dogs who thrive on attention.

Gus loves seeing the kids in the hospital.

He has also enjoyed his share of celebrity encounters. How many dogs sit in Metta World Peace’s lap or hang out with Laker girls?

GUS Those were the days.

As restrictions began to ease, I was very excited about bringing Gus to one of the first pet visit stations at UCLA Medical Center. It was going to be held in the Peace Garden right outside the lobby.

ELBEE As I recall, she’d already taken Stanley to one. Poor Gus.

From the moment we walked in, his little tail started wagging. He was back in his element. When we met up with others from PAC, especially his Bichon buddy Tommy, he was more himself than he’d been in a long time. I don’t know if he was happier to see the dogs or the people.

I wish I could say that this was the most successful pet visit station ever but because of the restrictions that are still in place and the gradual transition, the event couldn’t be publicized. It was like a party where the guests don’t show up because they didn’t receive invitations.

ELBEE Thank goodness it wasn’t catered.

Still, for me, Donna and Sharon, it was a relief to be doing something normal with our dogs. There was almost a sense of nostalgia. The few people who found us were delighted. “This made my day” was music to our ears.

We ended the morning doing something that under regular circumstances wouldn’t be worth mentioning. A few of us went to get sandwiches from the tiny take-out Subway shop in the basement of the hospital.

ELBEE This is a total snooze.

It’s kind of an informal tradition after visiting with the dogs, and something that we haven’t been able to do in over a year. Who knew that a simple lunch with dogs and friends could be so comforting?

ELBEE And who knew that comfort food was turkey and provolone on wheat?

For the Children

UCLA has partnered with the Department of Health and Human services to help care for the migrant children who are being temporarily housed at the Long Beach Convention Center. The People Animal Connection was offered the opportunity to provide pet therapy with weekly visit stations.

Last Wednesday, I hitched a ride with Jen Dobkin, the director of PAC, and took Stanley down for an experience that neither Jen nor I will ever forget. On the way there we were both nervous, not knowing what to expect. Once we arrived, I was glad we were together as we worked our way through security and COVID testing.

When we were finally led to a grassy area outside the center, the magic began. Groups of kids, between the ages of four and seventeen, came out to meet Stanley and Kelda a sweet Lab mix who was there with her owner Constance.

There was so much excitement as they gathered around the dogs. Once they knew that I could speak a little Spanish they had all sorts of questions in Spanish. What kind of dog was Stanley? How old was he? Could he speak Spanish?

Those were my cues. I shared that Stanley had just turned three this month and if they’d sing Feliz Cumpleaños, we’d dance for them.

ELBEE I think all of the Zoom calls have gotten to her.

Not only did they sing but they clapped along as Stanley put his big paws on my shoulders and we “danced.” They laughed when I put on his sunglasses and birthday tiara. They applauded when I told him “siéntate,” and he immediately sat.

ELBEE She used hand signals. I don’t know it that’s brilliant or shady.

They gave him water out of a small sports bottle, then gently wiped his beard with a towel. One little boy kept looking at Stanley and then at me. Suddenly, with a grin, he reached up and touched my hair. It was one of those funny, quiet gifts.

Group after group came out to visit, over 150 kids in all, one more enthusiastic than the next. They were appreciative when we gave them the dogs’ trading cards. They gently brushed Stanley with the soft baby brush that I use with kids in the hospital. Not once did I hear “you’re taking too long,” or “it’s my turn.” They gave each other space to pet him and rub his belly when he rolled over.

No matter the age, they were all so patient. As Jen said later, there was no whining. I am deeply grateful that being in the moment with the dogs temporarily helped them forget their difficult circumstances.

For reasons of privacy, we were not allowed to take any photos but it was impossible not to take mental pictures. The images of those wonderful children, who are going through so much but who felt such joy with Stanley and Kelda, will stay with me forever. I will always hear their laughter.