An Actual OT Moment!

[Note: Identifying details have been changed to protect the patient's privacy. Yup, I know about HIPAA.]

At a moment when I least expected it, I actually got to do something OT-like today. Woot!

My dog and I have been visiting patients at the local children's hospital for about three years now. We were there today and saw a burn unit patient before heading for the elevators to the upper floors to do requests. (Anyone who really wants as many doggie visits as possible can call the office and get themselves put on a special request list. Every team that comes in checks the list and picks up some requests if they can.) I was stopped in the hallway by a nice lady asking if I could visit her son. "Sure!" I said, and borrowed a pen to add the child's name and room number to my list.

I finally made it to the little boy's room at the tail end of my shift. After introducing my dog to him, I noticed was that the boy's left foot and ankle had a brightly colored brace on it. "Wow, you are seriously stylin'!" I said to him. "That is possibly the coolest-looking brace I have ever seen." (And it really was!)

"He got to pick the colors himself," the mom said. "He sure has a good eye!" She brought out a pair of nice-looking kid-sized sneakers. "And he picked these out too, red and blue!"

"Cool!" I said. "Do those come in my size? 'Cause I would totally get a pair."

The boy seemed pleased to be told he had good taste. I asked if he wanted to give my dog some cookies, and he nodded eagerly, feeding my dog using his right hand.

"He had a stroke," the mom said abruptly. [Note: I NEVER ask why the child is in the hospital. People often tell me, but I never ask. It's not important and also none of my business. I don't need to know a child's medical history to cheer him or her up, which is my actual job.] "Eight years old, and he had a stroke. Can you believe it?"

The mom told me the whole story, and I shared that I too have some experience in that area (a TIA four years ago).

Of course, now that I knew the whole story, the brace and the mom's urging her son to speak all made sense. And then I got an idea. I walked my dog around to the boy's other side, the side with the weaker arm and leg. "Would you like to feed my dog some more cookies?"

"Yes," the boy said happily, and stuck out his unaffected hand.

"Let's try the other hand," I suggested. "You can do it."

He wasn't thrilled, but agreed to let me put a cookie in his weaker hand. He worked to open his hand a little so my dog could take the cookie. Success! We repeated this four or five more times, the boy happily making the effort and smiling every time my dog's tongue lapped across his hand to take the treat.

It was a very cool moment.