He’s only 9-all right, he’ll be 10 later this month-but Guillermo “Chunky” Encinas is no stranger to hospitals.
A good-looking boy with a devilish grin, Chunky has leukemia, and he has been in and out of medical facilities more times than he wants to remember.
But in his most recent visit, Chunky was sitting pretty comfortably in a big private room with his own TV and VCR, all the drawers and windows at kid’s-eye level and a glass door leading to a patio where he could sit in the sun.
The nurses, one for every two children, sat just outside his room, keeping a constant eye on him and the other young patients at his end of the floor. There was plenty of room for his mother, Yolanda, to spend the night, and lots of space to keep his clothes and things and snacks from home, especially his beloved chicharrones, the pork rinds that he cheerfully offers visitors.
Down the hall, designed to resemble a neighborhood, Chunky could play pool with other kids his age in the well-equipped playroom. At night, constellations of stars light the ceiling over the nurses’ stations, softening the entire 3rd-floor special-care unit.
Chunky would rather be home, of course, but “it’s real nice here,” he said. “They didn’t have things like this in the old place.”
The psychologically supportive surroundings are hallmarks of the new San Diego Children’s Hospital and Health Center, a state-of-the-art architectural and interior-design showcase that seeks to lift young patients’ spirits as they combat their illnesses.
Following the lead of other innovative children’s hospitals in Seattle, Indianapolis, Milwaukee, Boston, Ft. Worth, Little Rock and Palo Alto, the San Diego facility is the latest in a new wave of medical centers based on the notion, supported by mounting research, that patients, particularly children, heal faster in a more relaxing and less sterile environment.
“The philosophy that happy kids heal healthier and faster is what this place is all about,” said Blair Sadler, president and chief executive of the San Diego hospital.
A 1990 study by Texas A&M University researcher Roger Ulrich found interior design an integral part of the healing process.
“Supportive surroundings facilitate patients’ coping with the major stress accompanying illness,” the study said. “The effects of supportive design are complementary to the healing effects of drugs and other medical technology, and foster the process of recovery.
“By comparison,” the study continued, “hard settings raise obstacles to coping with stress . . . and accordingly add to the total burden of illness.”
Self-evident evidence
Evidence here is mainly anecdotal. But Anita Wilson, assistant manager of the hospital’s cancer unit, said the playful environment has a marked effect on the children she sees each day.
“We’ve really seen a tremendous impact with adolescent cancer patients. It’s much more of a home type of atmosphere,” Wilson said. “That’s really fundamental to recovering a lot quicker.”
The 114-bed hospital, designed by the Seattle-based architectural firm NBBJ, opened in January to rave reviews. Architecture Magazine proclaimed the three-story, 190,000-square-foot building a “new precedent in children’s healthcare, which suggests that good feelings and healing should go hand in hand.”
At a time of concern over soaring health-care costs, innovation can be expensive. But hospital officials contend that the new $58.4 million facility, built around the corner from the existing 1950s-era children’s center, is comparable in cost per square foot to other new hospitals. The new structure will receive 8,500 inpatients each year and 35,000 outpatient visits.
Architects spent weeks studying San Diego landmarks, and the building tries to evoke the style of several of them, including the zoo, the stately Victorian-era Hotel del Coronado, downtown Horton Plaza and old Spanish missions.
The result is a cream-colored stucco exterior and bright red roofs. At the heart of the building is a clock tower reminiscent of a famous San Diego Bay lighthouse, symbolizing time’s healing quality. Outside the front entrance is a statue depicting children playing, titled “Inspiration.” It signals that “miracles happen here,” said Coralynn Young, a spokeswoman for the hospital.
Kid-size furnishings
The interior is built to children’s scale, with their whimsy in mind. The front desk in the open lobby is in the shape of a giant bass drum. The hallways and an upstairs outdoor courtyard are filled with interactive artwork, including bronze petting statues that even parents often seek for comfort.
Nurses’ stations, instead of being large and chaotic, are separated into smaller, more accessible pods that serve 10 rooms in their local “neighborhood.” Medication is kept in rooms built to resemble houses. Counters, built low so children can see over them, resemble back-yard fences, and the green carpet is the neighborhood’s “lawn.”
Spacious patient rooms-all personalized singles in the 30-bed, special-care unit and most of them private on the 60-bed, second-floor medical-care ward for less seriously ill children-are arranged in clusters around the nurses’ pods. Each room is equipped with a clock-another reminder that time heals-a sofa bed for parents and a cushioned seat for a window sill.
No detail is too small. Windows are divided into four panes, to more closely resemble residential windows. Each room has spaces for art so kids can feel more at home. Patients choose what they want to wear, rather than traditional hospital gowns. And anesthetic comes in flavors.
Whatever the medical impact of the design and the approach, the effect is at once dazzling, warm and liberating. Nurse Seja Plavsic, 37, a native Chicagoan who worked for eight years at the University of Chicago Medical Center, said the unique design makes life easier and more upbeat for staff as well as patients.
“I just see the children coming in, and the turnaround time in terms of length of stay seems to be a little bit shorter,” Plavsic said. “And I really think the environment has something to do with it.”
Heading home early
One floor down from Chunky, Lauretta Kennedy, 6, was getting ready to go home a couple of days earlier than doctors had anticipated. Lauretta, who suffers from asthma, had just been diagnosed with diabetes as well.
Nurse Lauren Klein, 26, Lauretta’s favorite because “she’s so pretty,” taught Lauretta about making sure to eat meals and snacks during the day.
And the little girl had a big time painting pictures of her family and regularly beating her daddy, Navy Lt. Joel Kennedy, 29, at the children’s version of Monopoly.
“It’s convenient and comfortable,” said Kennedy, who formerly had taken Lauretta to the nearby naval hospital. “They go out of their way to make it that way.”
Upstairs, Sozen Kano, 32, a native of Iraq, sat beside her daughter Sylvia, 4, who has been in and out of hospitals for eight months for chemotherapy and other treatment since doctors removed a brain tumor.
“This is beautiful. I’m very happy with this hospital,” said Kano, stroking Sylvia’s hair. “My daughter, she got a lot of attention. . . . I lost my girl, and my girl, I got her back.”
