Dr. Dog |
Unmindful of the surgery he will soon undergo, a young boy focuses instead on the two exuberant visitors who have entered his hospital room. They share hugs and kisses; they pose for a photo. Before they leave, the boy gives one visitor a treat for correctly answering the math problem, "What's two plus two?"
On another floor, a toddler recovering from burn injuries squirms in her father's lap. She doesn't like the breathing treatment he must administer. And then a visitor arrives. The little girl smiles, settles back against her father, and inhales calmly. She reaches out a tiny bandaged arm to her visitor, who approaches and eagerly accepts a pat on the head.
Welcome to Detroit's Children's Hospital, where interns and physicians aren't the only ones making the rounds. In addition to the docs, teams of dogs and their dedicated owners make regular visits to the hospital's young patients. Yes, dogs. Yes, at the hospital.
Ten years ago, volunteers at Children's approached Suzanne Chesney, senior therapeutic-recreation specialist, about starting a pet-therapy program. Chesney was intrigued but stymied. "There was not a lot of research on the subject," she recalls. "My biggest hurdle was to research all the U.S. nursing journals, the medical and hospital journals. I found that animals do not transmit anything to patients that would prolong their hospital stay. But we don't allow animal visits to patients with allergies or asthma. Research supports the fact that pet therapy helps those who are isolated and noncommunicative start to perform the physical skills they need to work on."
After presenting her report to the president of the hospital and to the department of infectious diseases, Chesney received approval and the program was born.
GROOMING BEFORE VISITING
Today, Chesney can count on the efforts of 30 volunteers and their dogs who visit four times a week. She has stringent guidelines, assessing each owner and dog, "to be sure they interact well with little kids." The dogs must pass a canine good-citizen test, and be certified by a dog-obedience center and by Therapy Dog International. Before visiting, dogs have to be bathed and groomed. Volunteers are asked to commit to visiting once a month, but Chesney says that most make a couple of visits each month.
"It's rewarding," says Nancy Lindsay who brings her golden retriever, Corey, to visit. "I do this and feel better. It keeps me sane."
On a recent morning, Nancy and volunteer partner Diane Missler peek into the room of Chad Smith, who is scheduled for brain surgery later in the day. Chad's face brightens immediately. He reaches out an arm, I.V. lines and all, to the dogs bounding up to his bed. "They're so soft," he coos. Chad's delight is reflected in his parents' faces.
"The dogs are what Chad talks about," Kim Smith says, "not the surgery. They brighten his day. He has every picture Nancy has ever taken of him with Corey. The dogs give Chad something else to remember," she says, gesturing to the equipment arrayed around her son's bed during his two-month stay.
DOG IS AA MATH WHIZ
Nancy takes a Polaroid of Chad and Corey, and before they leave, Chad asks if he can give Molly, also a golden retriever, a math problem. Diane Missler nods assent and Chad asks, "Molly, what's two plus two?" The canine's reply astounds all within earshot, "Woof, woof, woof, woof!"
Therapy dogs do more than bring smiles and respite from the hospital routine. Suzanne Chesney recalled a young girl who had been in an auto accident. Despite intensive therapy to awaken her, the child remained in a semi-coma.
"Her mom told me that before the accident, she'd taken the girl to the pet store every day, so I decided to take a dog in to her. On that very first day, she opened her eyes. Whenever I had access to a dog, I would bring it to her room. By the next visit, she opened her eyes and turned her head." Bit by bit, the child made a full recovery.
"I can't prove scientifically that the dog got the girl out of her coma," Chesney admits. "But I have my gut feelings."
On another floor, a toddler recovering from burn injuries squirms in her father's lap. She doesn't like the breathing treatment he must administer. And then a visitor arrives. The little girl smiles, settles back against her father, and inhales calmly. She reaches out a tiny bandaged arm to her visitor, who approaches and eagerly accepts a pat on the head.
Welcome to Detroit's Children's Hospital, where interns and physicians aren't the only ones making the rounds. In addition to the docs, teams of dogs and their dedicated owners make regular visits to the hospital's young patients. Yes, dogs. Yes, at the hospital.
Ten years ago, volunteers at Children's approached Suzanne Chesney, senior therapeutic-recreation specialist, about starting a pet-therapy program. Chesney was intrigued but stymied. "There was not a lot of research on the subject," she recalls. "My biggest hurdle was to research all the U.S. nursing journals, the medical and hospital journals. I found that animals do not transmit anything to patients that would prolong their hospital stay. But we don't allow animal visits to patients with allergies or asthma. Research supports the fact that pet therapy helps those who are isolated and noncommunicative start to perform the physical skills they need to work on."
After presenting her report to the president of the hospital and to the department of infectious diseases, Chesney received approval and the program was born.
GROOMING BEFORE VISITING
Today, Chesney can count on the efforts of 30 volunteers and their dogs who visit four times a week. She has stringent guidelines, assessing each owner and dog, "to be sure they interact well with little kids." The dogs must pass a canine good-citizen test, and be certified by a dog-obedience center and by Therapy Dog International. Before visiting, dogs have to be bathed and groomed. Volunteers are asked to commit to visiting once a month, but Chesney says that most make a couple of visits each month.
"It's rewarding," says Nancy Lindsay who brings her golden retriever, Corey, to visit. "I do this and feel better. It keeps me sane."
On a recent morning, Nancy and volunteer partner Diane Missler peek into the room of Chad Smith, who is scheduled for brain surgery later in the day. Chad's face brightens immediately. He reaches out an arm, I.V. lines and all, to the dogs bounding up to his bed. "They're so soft," he coos. Chad's delight is reflected in his parents' faces.
"The dogs are what Chad talks about," Kim Smith says, "not the surgery. They brighten his day. He has every picture Nancy has ever taken of him with Corey. The dogs give Chad something else to remember," she says, gesturing to the equipment arrayed around her son's bed during his two-month stay.
DOG IS AA MATH WHIZ
Nancy takes a Polaroid of Chad and Corey, and before they leave, Chad asks if he can give Molly, also a golden retriever, a math problem. Diane Missler nods assent and Chad asks, "Molly, what's two plus two?" The canine's reply astounds all within earshot, "Woof, woof, woof, woof!"
Therapy dogs do more than bring smiles and respite from the hospital routine. Suzanne Chesney recalled a young girl who had been in an auto accident. Despite intensive therapy to awaken her, the child remained in a semi-coma.
"Her mom told me that before the accident, she'd taken the girl to the pet store every day, so I decided to take a dog in to her. On that very first day, she opened her eyes. Whenever I had access to a dog, I would bring it to her room. By the next visit, she opened her eyes and turned her head." Bit by bit, the child made a full recovery.
"I can't prove scientifically that the dog got the girl out of her coma," Chesney admits. "But I have my gut feelings."
Two hours after Diane and Nancy signed in at the volunteer desk, their visit ends. Molly and Corey lap water from Styrofoam cups and accept congratulatory rubs and scratches from their devoted owners. It's easy to see how these dogs could awaken a girl from a coma or distract a young boy from surgery. As easy as two plus two. Woof, woof, woof, woof.
Debra Darvick is a freelance writer and mother of two.
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