How to Make Your Child's Hospital Stay Easier, From a Parent Who's Been There

To keep my child comfortable, I stay with her. That doesn’t mean I have to be a martyr: I pack what I need, too, and I don’t care if I get funny looks for showing up with a suitcase. We bring her own pillow and pillowcase, and I bring my sleeping bag. The hospital offers plenty of top sheets and thin blankets, but I learned pretty quickly that they easily slide off the visitor chair-bed, so I bring a flannel sleeping bag that stays put around me.

I wear yoga pants and a hoodie and slippers or flip-flops and pack warm socks, scrunchies for my hair, and lots of lip balm. I have found that aromatherapy keeps me calm, so I also bring lavender essential-oil drops and a diffuser (not a big one, not a candle-lit one, but rather one that plugs directly into a wall outlet). I also pack a noise machine and a sleep mask for each of us because hospital floors are noisy and brightly lit around the clock.

I do not rely on the hospital for food because it comes on their schedule (not our stomachs’) and I do not trust it to be palatable or in accordance with our dietary restrictions. Thanks to all the delivery apps out there, eating well has gotten a lot easier. I always ask for a dorm-size fridge for my daughter’s medications, which can also be useful for stashing leftovers. But even if they can’t provide that, there is usually a refrigerator for families on the floor, so I make sure I have creamer or milk for coffee and some fresh fruit, in addition to nonperishable snacks. Some families I know bring their own travel-size coffee makers or french press, because the hospital coffee really is that bad. I’ve located the nearest Starbucks, and I know when my daughter naps, I can order ahead and get there and back in 17 minutes. I’ve also met parents who bring wine and a reusable coffee cup to keep it hidden.

I always like to have small bills for the vending machines. And if people ask how they can help, I ask for gift cards for coffee or to the supermarket nearest to the hospital, which for us is a Whole Foods that has a robust prepared-foods section and salad bar that I can make meals from. Most of these now deliver. The social workers and nurses on the floor usually have coupons for the hospital cafeteria and coffee trucks that they can give out, so don’t be afraid to ask for a few. And don’t forget Emergen-C or other vitamins to help you stay healthy. Hospital wards are just full of germs.

Mostly, I know exercise will go by the wayside, but I sneak in whatever workouts I can. When people are able to visit, I always ask them if they’ll stay with my daughter long enough for me to take a shower or, better, to take a walk or go for a run. When we can’t have visitors, I time my showers or coffee runs to coincide with the arrival of a Child Life specialist or another volunteer-led activity, like a visit from a princess, a support dog, or the art or music therapy folks. I have done yoga in the room when I had space and we weren’t sharing it. If I need a minute, I’ll bring my kid down to the playroom to color or play with the kitchen set so I can sit and read or scroll through social media for a half hour.

At the very least, I can keep myself from falling apart completely by packing an ample toiletry bag including my own toilet paper, a toothbrush and toothpaste, my own soap or shower gel and lots of lotion, all my medications (including Tylenol for headaches), any sleep aids, earplugs, and a neck pillow. And I do not hesitate to ask for help. If she needs anything, I ask. And if I need anything, I ask.

Hospital playrooms have gotten a lot better than you might expect, and the volunteers have gotten a lot more creative with their activities, but even so, the novelty wears off pretty quickly. For every visit, I pack a small bag of new goodies: paper or notebooks, markers or glitter pens or other basic art supplies, a craft project, a couple of books, and a doll or toy. This usually includes a doctor kit or a doll with the same diagnosis as my daughter. We have dolls with g-tubes that she practices feeding, dolls with leg braces, and dolls with incision scars. Those end up being her best friends when she’s inpatient.

Lots of people will want to help by sending gifts, but if you don’t tell them what you want or need, you may end up with five narwhals from the hospital gift shop like my daughter did. We have at times established an Amazon wish list for people who want to send her new toys but can’t come in person.

Every hospital bed has a television, and nine times out of 10, a patient has theirs on all day and into the night. My daughter was not wowed by the channels offered, and the more desirable DVDs were either scratched, in use, or missing, so we pack a few beloved movies and a laptop to access Amazon Prime, Netflix, and/or Disney+.

We always pack headphones so we don’t have to listen to our neighbor’s reality TV or their conversations and a tablet with songs, books, and games loaded on it for alternative entertainment. I also bring my laptop and earbuds so I can work when things are quiet. We have a handy multiport charger that connects all these devices since hospitals rarely provide chargers and outlets can be limited.