I’ve become a real softie. I might as well admit it. I don’t know if it’s because of Abbe’s journey or if it’s just part of being a father, generally. But it only takes something nice, loving and deserving for that bloody lump in my throat to start swelling.
Today, it was the play therapy. At the ground level here at the hospital, there is a facility for children of all ages. And it’s not about tests, X-ray, operations or examinations. It’s not even a waiting room. No, it’s a whole department, actually very big, even – with the sole purpose of making the children feel good. To give children whose days are filled with examinations, medicines and jabs something else to think about for a while. And that includes their brothers and sisters.
There are lots of toys in all shapes or forms, really nice rally- and Formula 1 style pedal cars, hockey- and football games, ping pong table, play houses and doll corners. En fantastic play unit with material that most daycare nurses would give anything to get their hands on. You can play with water if you want and there is a great playground in the inner garden. In one room were drums, bass, guitar, synthesizers and a computer for those who feel like recording their own record. In another room, you can lie down and listen to music in white bean bags surrounded by light shows on the walls, lava lamps and other mood enhancers. And there is a library filled with children- and teen books, films an CDs. And staff, of course.
I’ll bring the camera there next time, so you can see for yourself.