Everyone Knows Hospitals are Scary. For Kids. For Parents. For Families.
Hospitals Know This Best.
I Have Watched, from a Ring-Side Seat, How Hospitals Work Tirelessly to Conquer these Fears.
With the Goal to Get Everyone Healthy and Home.
In a Team Approach to Healing.
Miss Doodle is back in the Hospital. An Emergency Surgery. Not unexpected. Just the Timing.
But in Any Event, Here We Are Again.
Each Day, the Same Drill, Flying from Work to the Hospital.
She’s In Surgery Now.
Driving. Clenching the Wheel. Pediatric Wrist ID Firmly In Place.
Racing through the Hospital Doors. Trying to Be Brave. Hoping to Stay Positive.
And I Almost Miss the Spots where the Hospital has Created Moments of Magic.
A Silly Blue Dinosaur in a Painted Cloud Coat. Smiling Brightly.
Hot Air Balloon Decals in the Pediatric Surgery Waiting Room.
Gut-Wrenching Waiting is Easier in a Place Filled with Soothing Positive Light. And Balloons.
After a Long Night of Little Sleep, Good Strong Coffee.
Before-Dawn Pancakes and Talking Quietly of What Happens Next.
Cinnamon-Infused Oatmeal. Hot and Sweet. Holding on to Each Other.
Good Results. Amen.
Now the Post-Op Healing Begins.
As We Wait, the Hospital Brings In Moments of Magic with Fun Visitors.
Presenting Gifts for a Sister who missed the Fun.
Lots and Lots of Magic to Deliver from Tireless Volunteers.
Gift Shoppe Surprises Carefully Wrapped in Ribbon Swirls.
A Special Bear to Cuddle when It Gets Almost Too Much. And a Tiny Quilt from Home.
Hospitals Equip Pediatric Rooms with Parent Beds. Positioned within Steps of the Child.
It is a Special Spot that Keeps Us Close and a Vital Part of the Team.
Some Afternoons bring a Dog Parade of Warm Licks and Hugs. To Every Room.
Marching Quietly from Room to Room.
So Much Healing in a Gentle Touch.
I am So Thankful for this Magic.
Vietnamese translation: May All Your Wishes Come True.
The Magic for Us All.