Stage two was when we had to take Dolly up to hospital rather unexpectedly last week to have a series of scans and tests done. Now you would think that to an eight year old all the prodding, scanning, probing, jabbing and widdling on demand might seem a tad disconcerting, as it certainly was for mum.
Not at all. Thanks not only to the super medical staff on the ward and in the radiology department, but largely to the wards Play Therapist.
Don't you mean physiotherapist I hear you say. No. Play Therapist. Someone who looked after the little patients by providing suitable games, puzzles, activities and crafts to keep them occupied between examinations and tests.
Someone who explained in child friendly terms exactly what would be happening and why. I found that useful myself! Someone who played 'Where's Wally?' to expertly distract whilst bloods were being taken. And someone who made mums and dads a proper mug of tea.
Brilliant job, and that's what I want to be when I grow up.
PS Dolly say hospital fish and chips are the best in the world
PPS all tests came back clear :-)
Sent from my iPhone
1 comment:
Play therapist sounds a whole lot more useful to society than a bed tester which is what I'd like to be.
Glad this story has a happy ending.
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