Salem Hospital volunteer Kimber often starts her shift in the emergency room, her shaggy blonde tail sweeping the floor as she walks. Kimber is an 11-year-old Golden Retriever and one of the hospital’s most popular volunteers. Her purple collar, affixed with her own hospital badge, is attached to a leash held by her owner, Eric Schuman.  Schuman, 78, a retired physician associate, has been volunteering at Salem Hospital for about five years. He helps onboard new volunteers – both human and animal – to its pet therapy program, which has about 20 therapy dogs rotating Monday through Friday.  On Tuesday, Oct. 6, Schuman and Kimber walked side by side through the softly lit halls of the seventh-floor Neuro Trauma Care Unit, with only a sticky note to guide them. The note was scratched for Schuman that morning by a group of nurses. In red and black ink, it listed five rooms and two names: Rita and Tommy.  Before entering Tommy’s room, Schuman sanitized his hands with a dispenser by the door. He peeked his head around a curtain and asked Tommy for permission to come in, as he does with every patient. Tommy, 54, sat on a chair beside his bed in a green, patterned hospital gown. While gently petting Kimber with one hand, an intricate tattoo extending up his arm, Tommy admitted he’s not usually a dog person.  But he found Kimber soothing. Salem Hospital volunteer therapy dog Kimber, 11, poses for a photo at the end of her shift. (HAILEY COOK/Salem Reporter) Tommy had been in the hospital for nearly a week and was just out of a spinal surgery. His demeanor, nonetheless, was positive. The murmuring of “South Park” from his TV droned as he joked about banging his head into lockers and at concerts as a teen.  Before leaving, Schuman offered Tommy a squirt of hand sanitizer from his travel-sized, Salem Health-branded spray bottle. Tommy accepted. Heading to the next room, Schuman pulled out the sticky note from his pocket, now more crinkled than before. The room belonged to Rita, 51, who lay in her hospital bed still recovering from a seizure. She spoke with a smile while petting Kimber, and said she was reminded of her own puppy back home.  “I needed a dog fix,” she said. Though still dazed from her injury, Rita was excited to go home that day and reunite with her pet. Between patients, Schuman and Kimber were stopped by several scrub-clad nurses, many leaning down to meet Kimber’s eyes as they hummed a high-pitched greeting. Kimber’s tail, still brushing the floor, wagged with excitement. Though her tail is full of energy, Kimber has a calm and gentle approach. She greets each patient, employee and passerby with a wet nose and a few quick sniffs.  A unique chaplaincy  Schuman never asks patients, “How are you?” Still, many any open up, sharing their diagnoses or stories about an ill or deceased loved one.  It’s Kimber that facilitates the connection, Schuman said.  “The dog gives people the confidence and makes them feel safe in disclosing to a complete stranger where they would not do it with someone else,” he said. In turn, Schuman offers a present, compassionate ear – much like a hospital chaplain. “Everything I had learned and had been trained about in doing this work left something extremely important out – that what we were really doing was chaplaincy,” Schuman said. Along with helping onboard new teams, Schuman has helped certify many of Salem Hospital’s therapy dogs through the Alliance of Therapy Dogs, a national nonprofit that offers training.  He tells new volunteers that they’ll see a miracle each shift, whether it be turning tears into a smile or temporarily relieving a patient’s pain. “It is unlikely there will ever be a day that you are volunteering that you fail to see a small miracle. … Once in a while, those miracles are major,” Schuman said. One of Schuman’s more memorable therapy dog visits happened in the emergency room about two years ago. During his rounds, Schuman noticed a family of five leaving the department in tears. A chaplain informed him the father had been killed in a head-on crash in Salem and asked if he’d pay them a visit in a private room. Eric Schuman and his dog, Kimber, 11, walk through the hallways of Salem Hospital. (HAILEY COOK/Salem Reporter) Schuman entered the room and introduced Kimber to the spouse. In silence, she reached out to pet Kimber as tears fell down her cheeks. They sat together quietly for about two minutes. He then introduced Kimber to other family members, some of whom shared stories about their own dogs. After about 10 minutes, he returned to the spouse to offer his condolences. He said, “I’m so very sorry.” The spouse mouthed, “Thank you,” Schuman recalled. “That was one of the most powerful therapy dog visits I’ve ever had,” he said. “It showed me, more than anything, how valuable the service can be not only to people who are chronically ill or acutely ill, but also in the case where someone was acutely grieving, especially at the worst moment of their lives.” Though retired from medicine, Schuman has no plans to retire from pet therapy. The work, he said, feeds his soul. “This is what I want to do until I die. There’s no doubt in that,” he said. At 11, some say Kimber is also at retirement age. While her demeanor has earned her comparisons to a grandma by many staff, her youthfulness comes out at the end of each shift when Schuman takes her to get a treat.  “I have to consult an orthopedist after every (shift), and the reason is that this girl tries to pull my left arm out of the socket to take me to the to Creekside Cafeteria to get a pup cup, which she tells me she deserves every time,” Schuman said. Contact reporter Hailey Cook: [email protected] . “My go-to source every morning for accurate, local news.” Make Salem Reporter your trusted source for independent local reporting – every day. Stay informed and connected. Subscribe today. The post Wet-nosed Salem Hospital volunteer brings comfort to patients and grieving families  appeared first on Salem Reporter. ...read more read less