PCH Patients Will Ride Again!
Last month, we were faced with an important problem here at Phoenix Children’s Hospital. Several of the Radio Flyer wagons that we use to transport young patients around the Hospital had gone missing and needed to be replaced. These wagons provide invaluable comfort to little ones who are already dealing with a lot while in an unfamiliar environment.
Consequently, we turned to Indiegogo for help. We created a page to “crowdfund” the costs to replace the wagons and then reached out to our amazing supporters for help. We weren’t sure what to expect, but were hoping to obtain enough funding to purchase several new wagons after 30 days.
Instead, we received immediate and enthusiastic support from the PCH community. Within 12 hours, our Indiegogo campaign had surpassed its $1,500 goal, which we had considered a “stretch goal” when we created the page. Many supporters also called us directly to volunteer their time to help with delivering and assembling the wagons. Finally, after 30 days, we ended up with $6,733 in contributions.
We’re thankful for the support of every donor and volunteer, but we want to give special recognition to the following people and groups:
– Rock Star gallery of Scottsdale, AZ
– Elli & Bill Bogden of Mesa, AZ
– Sam Clements of Phoenix, AZ
– Grant Cline of Phoenix, AZ
– Wanda Montana of Peoria, AZ
– Debbie Niles of Glendale, AZ
– Jean Poirier of Kirkland, WA
– Chris Sar of Tempe, AZ
Thank you all for your generous contributions; because of you, PCH patients will ride again. The replacement wagons have already been ordered and delivered, and will soon be assembled and out on the hospital floors for kids to use. We plan to post pictures to Twitter and Instagram as they become available, so be sure to connect with us on those channels.
Imagine you’re 6 years old. After a terrifying accident, you were pried from a car, whisked into an ambulance and rushed to the trauma center at Phoenix Children’s Hospital. All you can see are glaring lights and the faces of people you don’t know. Doctors are urgently giving orders. Nurses are putting a mask over your face and needles in your arm. You can‘t breathe; you’re disoriented, and no one knows your name yet. Your tears spill over and you begin to panic. Then, a Child Life Specialist enters the room. Everything changes.