As we prepare to move into the new C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital this December, many of our staff and families have been reminiscing about the countless memories we all have from the more than 40 years in the current facility. This week’s post contains the transcript of a story one of our beloved families shared with us at a recent employee gathering to say “goodbye” to the old Mott building. We would like to thank Shannan for sharing this beautiful story. We are lucky to have had you and Maddie be a part of our Mott story and we are so honored to have one of the beams of the new building bearing her name.
Hello, my name is Shannan Shaw, although most Mott people know me as “Maddie’s Mom.” My daughter Maddie was an inpatient on the 5th floor PCTU for almost 16 months straight. She was admitted February 9th, 2007 just before her 3rd birthday and she took her last breath here on May 27th, 2008. Mott was her home for nearly 1/3rd of her life. It was also my home away from home. Our place to play, feel sick and get better, our place to work, to stress out, die of boredom, our place to cry and our place to have hope beyond reason. This was the place where our future was decided.
So, it pleases me very much to be able to talk with you this morning about saying ‘Goodbye’ to such an amazing place.
You know, everyone has been so busy preparing for the move into the new hospital that it is hard to give much of a second thought to what soon will be in our past. But, just as it is when you graduate from high school or move away from your childhood home, taking the time to say goodbye can be validating and cathartic. Have you ever gone back and visited a home you used to live in, or walked the halls of your old high school years later? Maybe you found your old locker and tried to remember the combination.
Moving on from a place, whether it be a high school or a hospital, signifies a big change in time. The physical space itself defines a chunk of our very own history and our experiences.
Maddie and her family and I had our own unique experiences here. Ones that I do not want to forget. Here are some of the bigger highlights.
- She spent her third birthday in the OR in surgery where she received the first Berlin Heart in Michigan.
- She celebrated her 3 ½ birthday in the courtyard garden. I had never even heard of celebrating half birthday’s before this.
- She had an amazing Halloween here. She was the Queen of Hearts with the entire entourage of characters being played by her family and nurse.
- Christmas was celebrated in her own room as well as in the Mott hotel, and in the old waiting area on the second floor.
- She had a huge blowout fourth birthday party in the 8th floor Family Resource Center. There were about 30 children and umpteen adults all enjoying a very special day.
- New Year’s, two Valentine’s days, two Easters, two mother’s days, father’s day, family birthday’s, lots of surgeries and procedures, and hospital events both happy and sad were all experienced by us.
- We were here when different staff got engaged, married, announced their pregnancies and even lost their children to tragic accidents. We were here to watch football stars come through, and were here when the transplant team aircraft crashed.
- We said hello and goodbye to many other patients, and staff.
But really, such a huge part of our time here was spent doing very boring, mundane things. The kind of things that I felt were a waste of time or just had to be endured. Finding a parking space and parking the car. Checking in at security, getting my badge for the day. Waiting for and taking elevators up and down, every single day. Taking the long, long walk to the cafeteria, rounding the corner wondering if it would be a small crowd or a large crowd to get through. Trying to make some sort of meal selection that would prove to be interesting and different from the last eight months of breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. Finding a place to sit in the cafeteria where there was a plug we could use to plug in Maddie’s Berlin Heart driver.
Sometimes I look down these halls and think about how we used to spend our days exploring every nook and cranny of the hospital (even all the bathrooms). We would take walks throughout Mott and beyond into the rest of the hospital as well. We walked all the floors and hallways many times, played in the playrooms, watched the fish in the fish tank, enjoyed countless hours in the family resource center, hung out in the CVC arboretum, ate in every eatery possible, and shopped in the gift shops. Of course any nice day outside meant we could go out into the courtyard, feed the squirrels, play in the water fountain, pick a few flowers, and just sit in the sunshine. We tried to squeeze out every bit of fun that we could out of the hospital.
So now when I walk around this hospital, I don’t just see the physical space of a hospital. I see all the experiences we had and all the emotions we felt. I wonder about all the experiences of the thousands upon thousands of other patients, nurses, doctors, and staff. Everyone single one of you has your own story played out here in these halls and rooms. Your stories give it the life it has. Even though it is not always visible or seen, you have all made your mark on this hospital. And it has made its mark on you.
Just a couple last thoughts I want to leave you with. Three years ago, as the new hospital was being built, there was a day for patients and families to come and sign their name on the beams of the building. Maddie’s name is here, and so she too has made her mark on the new Mott, connecting the old with the new. Our stories and those of everyone to come will fill the new hospital, adding to Mott’s story, extending it and enriching it. So, I don’t feel this is so much of a goodbye as a welcoming of the new, inviting what is to come to be a part of what already has been.
And lastly, when Maddie passed away, we had to choose where to bury her. After looking at several different places, we ultimately decided on the cemetery that is right next door to the hospital. Her spot sits right where you can look up and see Mott beautifully. I like to think she is watching over this new hospital, witnessing all the new stories unfold as history continues to be made here. Thank you.
We invite anyone with a memory of the “old” Mott that they’d like to share to submit them to our “Mott Memories” gallery on Facebook. Just visit the Mott Facebook page (www.facebook.com/mottchildren) and click on the “Mott Memories” icon in the menu on the left under our profile pic. You can also check out all the other memories by viewing the Gallery once you enter the app.
Our son stayed in PCTU in 2009 in what the nurses called “Maddie’s Room” when he had many complications after 3 open heart surgeries by age 3 months. Maddie is remembered and loved by the staff on PCTU and some of the nurses wear Maddie’s picture. Her mom mentioned here that she likes to think that Maddie is watching over the new hospital. I like to think that Maddie is watching over the little heart patients on PCTU that need it the most. I know she watched over our son. We learned of Maddie’s story when we were there. She is very special to the PCTU staff. Our daughter loved to play in “Maddie’s House” that is out in the garden area of the hospital when she came out to visit her little brother in the hospital. Shannon, thanks for sharing your story.
This warms my heart completely. To think that her life at the hospital and all of the love showered upon her is working its way around to other patients makes me feel so happy. Thank you for sharing your story as well.
Shannan,
We are all so blessed to have known Maddie….and you.
Thank you for this beautiful tribute to Mott and Maddie.
Kelly
Shannan,
I’m in tears. What an amazing reflection, thank you for sharing it. I found myself nodding throughout much of your memories, as for any parent and child that have spent so much time within the ‘Halls of Mott’, can relate to much of what you describe. It’s definitely a bittersweet time of transistion.
What a gift to have Maddie’s mark been made in the ‘old’ and in the ‘new’…what a legacy she leaves and a spirit of courage and love to so many who will follow her. And what a gift and a blessing that her spirit lives on through the immense love of her mother.
Love and Hugs, Colleen
Thank you Colleen! That means so much coming from you. I have such a respect for you and Missy- continuing to be the conquering heroes you are.
hugs!!!
Like Colleen, I had the same reaction reading this.. knowing such similar experiences and knowing the hospital in such a way as you have. I remember seeing Maddie in her room and walking around the halls with a giant smile on her face. The PCTU staff really does love Maddie as though she were their own. My daughter, Sofia, always enjoys playing in Maddie’s cottage. It’s all very bittersweet. Thank you for sharing with us, Shannan.
I met John Shaw in the PCTU during the first few days of his daughters admission. A man looking in need of a smile I began to tell him jokes. Every day I would come to work, caring for other children in the unit, but always making sure to share a joke with John. I soon found that John, not I, had an amazing sense of humor.
Over the following days I also met Shannan Shaw. The unique thing I first noticed about her was her smile. And her ability to smile with an enormous amount of weight on her shoulders.
As I began to take care of their daughter it was clear that Maddie possessed both of these characteristics. She was funny and had a beautiful smile. She used these skills to break down even the toughest nurses and doctors to putty in her hands. She played with the neck ties of the most serious physicians, and held hands with nurses who tried to keep a protective distance from endearing kids like Maddie.
Time passed on and caring for Maddie became a constant for the staff of the PCTU. In a unit where everything is so unpredictable, it was uplifting to know we could peek in to bed 10 and get a smile from Miss Maddie Moo. Having a difficult day? Stop in for tea with Maddie, embrace her in a hug, or go for a walk. And that is just what we did for 16 months. We explored Mott together. It was stimulation for Maddie and therapy for the staff.
I will never forget the time I spent at Mott with this precious girl. I thank Michigan for allowing me the opportunity to take care of such an amazing patient in a way that not many other hospitals would allow. We were always able to put her and her family first. Allowing them to stay a family among the walls of this amazing children’s hospital. And this “Michigan Difference” will undoubtedly be carried on by the staff to the new building. So many blessings on the move from this “Mott Trained” nurse in California.
Oh – Kelli, I am just crying up a storm. Thank you sooooooo much for writing this. You have a great memory. And your memories always bring me back to maddie like time hasn’t passed. You are such a sweetheart, then now and always. Thank you again.
What a wonderful tribute to your daughter. You are a very strong family. I work behind the scenes in Blood Bank and remember often preparing blood products for your daughter. I was once outside on my break and believe you and Maddie passed by – I sooo wanted to say something to you and wished I had! The behind the scene employees mostly know the names, but not the faces. So, now I will say your story was so touching to many of us back then – and it continues now with Maddie’s little house outside in the courtyard. I didn’t know about her being at the cemetery – how appropriate to be looking over the new hospital. I wish you happiness and peace!
Hey Shannon, thanks so much for sharing your story with us. As I read, I envisioned Maddie and you walking the halls. I can only imagine the wonderful times you had together, just a mom and daughter out for a stroll. I wish I were an artist because I would love to paint a scene right now and share what I see with the world or at least those at Mott, But for now I will treasure it in my mind.
Thanks again for your courage to write and also being part of our team at C.S. Mott.
Your buddy
Scott
Mrs. Shaw,
I can’t tell you how much your story means to me. I am a new medical student here at Michigan and I am sitting here studying for one of our weekly examinations. At times it can be hard to stay so motivated. I struggle with the divide between sitting in a lecture hall and actually providing care for a real human being. Yet, when I read a story like yours I am utterly amazed. Stories like Maddie’s put me in tears and make me want to be the best physician I can possibly be. The education here is the best in the country partly because of what we can learn from our patients and their families. Thank you for sharing your story and giving me a gift beyond measure.
i was there for the tour of the new motts and was on the 10 floor i was in a room looking out the window and i seen the cemertary that maddie is at i took a pic and the pic turned out beautiful.my two yr old also likes to go and play in maddies cottage thank u
Dear Shannan,
As an employee of 37+ years, I have felt the nostalgia you describe, but I had never really thought about it from a parent’s point of view. I suppose I always thought that if you lost a child here, you would not have fond memories and would want to put this time out of your mind. Thank you for sharing your story, reminding us that every day we help to determine the outcomes of families’ lives when they come here and when they leave here. Today you reminded me why my prayer each day is “to do no great things, only small things with great love”.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Hello Shannan and John and twins,
Your essay about Maddy’s experiences in the old Mott is beautiful. Hope things are going well for you.
Sharon, Your story is touching. I work at blood draw in Taubman and may have seen your daughter. Your story will always be remembered and I will keep you and your family in my prayers and thoughts. Maddie has made a huge impression on all of us at UM and yes she is looking out for all the other children who may have to have a similar experience. She will always be remembered. God bless Maddie and all of her family.
Dear Shannan, what a lovely tribute to your daughter and to the staff at Mott. I am humbled by your descriptions and memories of your time at Mott. My husband recently spent four and a half months at University of Michigan Hospital until the time that he came home with Hospice and passed away. His medical history is far too extensive to go into (five different transplants to name a few) but like you, we have wonderful memories of exceptional Doctors, nurses, parking lot attendants, cafeteria workers, lift team, etc. etc. We, too, waundered the halls, wondering what we could eat that would be different at the cafeteria, stayed at the Med Inn, wondered how easy it would be to find a parking spot on any given day; we celebrated Mother’s Day, Easter, Father’s Day, my husband’s birthday, etc. Along with mourning the loss of my husband, our family is also missing the great people/friends we met along the way and are keeping in touch with a few. We watched the new Motts being built in the 4 1/2 months we were there and actually went back for the open house this past Sunday. My husband would always say, as we passed through Motts and he saw the sick children, that his illnesses were nothing compared to these children. To say we were impressed by the new Motts, doesn’t do it justice. It is a wonderful facility but it’s the staff who will make it a great place. My grandchildren played many times in Maddie’s house and it even seems more special now that I know Maddie’s Story. Thank you for sharing. My husband died far too young at 59 but his transplants kept him living a lot longer than he would have without them. I cannot imagine losing a child like you have or being at the hospital as long as you had, but it warms my heart hearing about the positive experiences of your stay. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family always.
Shannan,
You are unbelievably brave. I am sitting here sobbing after reading your beautiful words. I remember the privilege of holding that adorable 3-month-old with the spikey red hair so you could have a chance to eat your dinner when we met for the first time at Mediterrano with Ryan and Sheila Elliott. I remember seeing you at the hospital and wishing for the right words to say and feeling so inadequate. We are all blessed for having shared moments of Maddie’s life. The fact that you could see the joy and beauty of that special time you shared with Maddie is a real tribute to your tranquil spirit. God bless you and John and the twins, from “Sheila’s mom.”
Your story is touching. I was a young new nurse at Mott Hospital in the late ’70s and last weekend had the pleasure of seeing the new facility. As I walked, I couldn’t help but remember some of the children we cared for so long ago; your story again reminds me of the human and personal legacy of Mott. Undoubtedly there will be more stories;know that yours will never be forgotten, and that the lessons and the love that your family taught the people who ARE Mott will continue to inspire them.
Thank you Shannan for sharing your memories with us. Even after leaving Michigan, patients & families are long remembered for your courage, your amazing ability to handle it all – from the heroic to the mundane as you describe (though I don’t know that parking here is a mundane experience!). No matter what are jobs are, you inspire all of us to do our best.
(correction)
Thank you Shannan for sharing your memories with us. Even after leaving Michigan, patients & families are long remembered for your courage, your amazing ability to handle it all – from the heroic to the mundane as you describe (though I don’t know that parking here is a mundane experience!). No matter what our jobs are, you inspire all of us to do our best.
[...] A goodbye to Mott, from Maddie’s Mom [...]
[...] gone, all the people having been whisked over to their new home. Today we bring you one more “farewell to the old Mott” story from a parent of two “little victors.” Her story is just another [...]