Phoenix Children's Hospital = Best. Ever.

In an earlier post, I talked about how excited I was to be staying at a children's hospital. Well, I was right... I had such a great experience. However, I completely underestimated how impressed I would be by everything at Phoenix Children's--it exceeded my expectations. I absolutely loved staying there. From the caring doctors and nurses to the playful ambiance, I felt so comfortable and so safe.  While I was obviously excited that I was well enough to go home so early, I was actually kind of sad that I had to leave such a great place. 

I've been thinking a lot about my stay at PCH and why I had the most wonderful experience. I've  devised a short list outlining my favorite things about PCH and why I think every hospital should be a children's hospital.

1. Stuffed animals

Before my surgery, my mom found a tub of Beanie Babies that was available to patients waiting for surgery. I chose a unicorn to play with...obviously. I also thought it was really sweet that patients could bring their stuffed animals or one of the Beanie Babies into the operating room with them.

So excited about my unicorn friend.

While I have already openly acknowledged my sassy attitude toward The Imposter Bear, I have learned to love him, and very much appreciate his presence in my life. I learned that my teddy bear had been donated by a family as part of an ongoing donation system PCH has. A family or individual has the opportunity to donate a teddy bear, which then goes to a patient at PCH to help them heal, free of charge. I think this is awesome. So, thank you to the family that donated my bear. I will most likely never meet you, but you have made a positive impact in my life, and I am deeply grateful for your generous gift. 

Thank you for my new friend!

2. Puppies. 

On Thursday (the day after my surgery), I had a lovely visit from a special furry friend. Her name was Cinder, and she and her owner were a part of the Pet Therapy Team at Phoenix Children's. She was incredibly mellow and calm...except for when she jumped onto my bed and almost ripped my catheter out (TMI? TMI.). Apparently Cinder had received extensive training as a service dog, but she ultimately failed the final test. Her owner decided to train her as a therapy dog instead, and so once or twice a week, she brings Cinder to visit patients and make them smile. I absolutely loved getting to hang out with her--she reminded me of my own dogs and distracted me from my pain for while. We had such a marvelous visit. Thank you, Cinder!

Me and Cinder!

3. Free sugar.

For dessert one night, my nurse gave me a chocolate cupcake with neon pink frosting. Can you say instant best friend? I was so excited (and so blitzed by all my pain meds) that I spilled 87% of it all over my hospital gown and on the floor. But, man oh man, that 13% was delicious.

4. Arts and crafts. 

There is a playroom on the 5th floor, right next to the CVICU (cardiovascular intensive care unit), where I was staying. On one of my longer strolls around the floor, I had enough energy to make it out of the CVICU for a few minutes, and I got to see a little bit of the "outside world".  My nurse showed me the playroom and asked me if I wanted to play with the other patients. I was actually a little bit intimidated by all the small children, so I politely refused.

Several of my friends tell me it's incredibly easy to read my emotional state based on my facial expressions... I guess this was one of those times. The disappointment and regret in my eyes must have been so obvious because about 20 minutes later a volunteer came into my room bearing a paper plate loaded with brightly colored paints and some wood cutouts for me to paint. I proceeded to paint a lovely picture frame and a rainbow fish, while my youngest sister painted a scotty dog and a pencil case. I'm still waiting to paint the W that the volunteer tried to pass off as an M. 

Master artist.

Summary:

Vicodin

+ Morphine

+ Ibuprofen

+ Muscle relaxants

+ paint

__________

= masterpiece waiting to happen. Next time, give me a ceiling to paint.

5. Cutesie names. 

Some nurses called me honey, or sweetie. Some called me Maya, some called me Notre Dame Girl. Whatever they called me, the main message was this: "You are special." I didn't just feel like another patient in another hospital room; I felt special, and cared for. Simple acts of kindess go a long way when you've just undergone a major life event that can leave you scared and in need of comfort. 

6. Cute patients.

The other patients in the CVICU were so young. And so cute. I loved going on walks around the unit because I got the chance to see the other patients. There was this cute little boy in a corner room who looked about 2 or 3 and was all alone in his room. I wanted to walk in and play with him, but he looked like he might be pretty sick, and I didn't want to compromise either of our immune systems. So, instead, I creepily walked by his room really slowly every time I was out and about. Because of my obsession with my fellow patients, I became the laughingstock of my family, especially amongst my sisters:

Sassy Sister: Hey, how was your day?

Maya: I'm bored. I have no friends here. And I can't drive anywhere. So yeah. I'm bored.

Sassy Sister: Why don't you call up some of your little friends from the Children's Hospital and set up a little playdate? Like with that one kid in the corner room?

Maya: *scowling/ secretly considering her proposition* ...Whatever.

Also, it's a completely different dynamic, having young kids in the hospital with you (as opposed to older cardio patients). A CVICU at a regular hospital will more than likely be filled with older, sicker patients, with arguably, less life ahead of them.  At PCH however,  I was with young patients with their whole lives in front of them, thanks to the amazing care of the doctors and nurses at PCH. Knowing this was so inspiring and reassuring.

7. Movies.

Approximately 30 hours into my stay at Phoenix Children's Hospital, I discovered the Pixar channel on my TV... game over. Gone were the hours of meaningless channel surfing. I watched Despicable Me and Finding Nemo about 6 times, but each time I watched them, I caught a different part of the movie. Thanks to my constant Morphine-Vicodin-whatever else-induced foggy state of mind, I felt like I was continuously living in an alternate Pixar universe. Which was awesome.

8. The food.

In addition to having a wide variety of food options (juice bar, smoothie bar, stir fry station, etc), the hospital also had very kid-friendly meal options like mac and cheese, juice boxes, and dino chicken nuggets. I mean, dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets?! I don't even like chicken nuggets, and I was seriously considering ordering some of those little buddies just to see what they looked like. Also, every morning, my breakfast came in a colorful paper bag. I felt like I was getting a Happy Meal or something.

Ochocinco (lurking in the background) was a big fan of the goodie bags.

9. Instant celeb status.

If you are over the age of 10 and in the CVICU at Phoenix Children's Hospital, you are anomaly. If you are over the age of 21, you are practically famous. During my stay, I daresay I was the oldest person in the CVICU. I think there was another patient who was a few years younger than me but I never actually saw him so he doesn't count. It was really nice to be able to talk to the nurses and get to know them , since they're usually dealing with younger patients who don't quite understand what is happening, and who aren't as freakishly fascinated by all the science and medicine behind everything. Moreover, one of my Anesthesiologists was a Domer, as well as one of my nurses, so I constantly felt the warm, fuzzy, "Notre Dame Family" feeling. 

10. Colors. 

I'm sure that when most of us think "hospital", colors like grey, grey-blue, grey-pink and grey-grey come to mind. On the other hand, when most of us think, "children's hospital", we think of wall murals of clowns and strange anthropomorphic animals (or both at the same time). Oh, that's not what you were thinking of? You're welcome.

None of this nonsense @ PCH.

Well, friends, as I wrote earlier, the Phoenix Children's Hospital is in a class of its own. The décor and style, and, most importantly, the colors in the building creates a bright, welcoming environment from kids ages 0 to 100. 

It's the little things that make a difference, and the little things at PCH, like the light show in the lobby, the warm colors in each room, or the bright pillowcase my my nurse gave me, made everything feel a little warmer and homier. And most importantly, I felt the effects of these little details, these little splashes of light.  I felt a little less sick, a little healthier, and a little happier. 

Mission.

There are so many more reasons why Phoenix Children's Hospital is the bomb.com. Ultimately though, I think what it all boils down to is their mission. PCH is a hospital that focuses on children, from their unique medical needs to their psychological and emotional needs. From their playrooms and recreation areas, to their family-centered hospital rooms, to the nation's first Child Advisory Board, PCH consistently puts its patients first. Even though I only stayed a few short days, I was stunned and amazed at the quality of care, and the way in which they were able to comfort and care for every single one of their patients, from the newborns to the 22-year-old kids at heart.  Every hospital should be this dedicated to its patients.  

Thank you, Phoenix Children's.