by Janet J. Seahorn

waiting-room

It is Monday morning, and I am sitting in the area’s Veteran’s Hospital waiting for Tony to finish with his medical procedure. The waiting room is small, really drab, and not a very cheery atmosphere. A Starbuck’s latte would help, but I couldn’t find the cafeteria and there was no such place as a gift shop to occupy my time.

 Truthfully, I was afraid to leave the area as the facility was a maze of unconnected corridors. It reminded me a bit like Hansel and Gretel trying to negotiate their way through the dark woods, only I had no bread pieces to throw on the floors, which I am pretty certain would raise the wrath of the nurses. To make it even more challenging, there were signs up everywhere, “Don’t Walk Through the Wards”.  So getting from point B to point A was a real puzzle.  It would be easier to find the witch’s cottage than the hospital’s cafeteria.

Unlike other more modern facilities, many VA Hospitals mirror the cost of having served in the military. Some areas that work with vets are located in dark basements of old buildings. Really uncharming surroundings that may make one question if healing is available within their spaces.

Yet, the volunteers and staff are truly committed to making a difference to every person who enters the hospital. A lovely man, a helper vet, wheeled his cart of donated magazines, books, and other goodies into the tiny space. His genuine mission to please brought a ray of sunshine to this otherwise dull surrounding. He cheerily informed me that I could take any magazine or book that I wanted, as they were all donated by the generous people of the area.

Since I have more than enough reading material, I declined but noticed some red, white, and blue balls wrapped neatly in plastic. Now these I could use.

Like my Labrador, Bailey, I am into play things. The smiling volunteer explained these were stress balls and I would need at least two… one for each hand. I was to squeeze them ten times in the morning when I awoke, and ten times in the evening before bed. Golly, as long as Bailey wasn’t around, I could perform such an exercise.

Feeling a bit less depressed by the drabness of the waiting room, I now had something to de-stress myself. Since I had been reading an article on depression in one of my neuroscience magazines, I was ready to do something more energizing.  Crush balls! I now had something interesting to take from the uncheery waiting room.

As for redecorating Vet Hospitals and serving facilities, I have a few simple suggestions.  Never put the client or his/her family in small surroundings.  This increases paranoia in some and anxiety in others. A new coat of fresh paint, preferable using more energizing or calming colors such as blue, green, or yellow would make an immense difference.

Make sure the room has good sunlight. Sunshine, even on our darkest days, seems to inspire a sense of Hope. A big T.V. would could offer some distraction, as well as access to a few computers to check messages or simple surf the internet.

Providing water or coffee would be great. Last, keep the cheery volunteer. He (she) offers a human contact if the family member is sitting alone, contemplating the “what ifs”.  He makes a positive difference. 

One last note, if you are wondering where the funds may come from for these suggestions, knowing the government may not be the provider, how about making this a community project. It would mean more to everyone if everyone made the contribution. 

Oh, and give out Stress Balls. Even your adoring pets love these baubles.

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