Teddy bears bring comfort and a touch of softness to patients in the Palliative Care Unit

Donated bears help to calm patients who may be delirious or lonely

To promote feelings of calmness, comfort and support among patients in the Palliative Care Unit at the JGH, members of staff are drawing upon the reassuring qualities of some unlikely little assistants: a troupe of cuddly and colourfully clad teddy bears.

The donated bears, which sport bandanas and T-shirts in cheerful hues, have become the plush and huggable equivalent of a security blanket for patients who may be experiencing delirium, feeling lonely or simply craving the soothing touch of something soft.

Elayne Kazenel Weigensberg (right), whose family has donated numerous teddy bears to the Division of Palliative Care and various charitable organizations, meets at the JGH with hospital Social Worker Vivian Myron. The bears on their laps wear T shirts emblazoned with “Shaney”, the nickname of Ms. Weigensberg’s late son, Shane. (Click to enlarge photo.)

In use since 2023 in Palliatve Care, the bears trace their origin to a tragic traffic accident in May 2018 that claimed the life of motorcyclist Shane Lorne Weigensberg two weeks before his 27^th birthday.

Soon afterward, intent on preserving and honouring her son’s memory, Elayne Kazenel Weigensberg began acquiring and giving away bears—their T-shirts embroidered with Mr. Weigensberg’s nickname, “Shaney”—to relatives, friends and, eventually, to various community organizations, including the JGH.

Ms. Weigensberg affectionately describes Shane as “a big goof”, a licensed mechanic who welcomed rough-and-tumble play with cousins, nephews and nieces, and was always ready to help someone in need.

“I want Shane to be here in some way, to have a presence.” Ms. Weigensberg says, “but the bears are mainly about comforting anyone who needs it and about our family giving back unconditionally.”

Before being sent to Palliative Care, each teddy bear is enclosed in a transparent plastic wrapper for sanitary purposes. Family members whose deceased loved one accepted a bear from staff are welcome to take the gift home. However, again for reasons of hygiene, bears that are left behind are not reused for other patients.

Vivian Myron, a JGH Social Worker who helped initiate the project, says even when someone is experiencing a tragedy, “it’s important for them to know they can receive a kind and thoughtful gift from another person who’s also been through a lot of pain.”

The importance of the sense of touch

“It’s important for most patients to have something soft to hold, because the sense of touch is huge,” explains Dr. Jean Zigby, Chief of the Division of Palliative Care.

“Individuals of all ages need continuous, positive sensations on their skin as frequently as possible. Ideally, it should be human contact, but if it can’t be human, it should be something they associate very closely with being kind and safe.

“The bears allow our patients to feel a constant sense of kindness, even though they’re clinically severely ill and in a hospital. The bears give them a feeling of being in the company of something surprisingly gentle.”

Kathia Dorcélus-Cétoute, Head Nurse in Palliative Care, notes that some patients are also restless to the point of not knowing what to do with their hands. “Holding a bear keeps their hands occupied and it calms them down.

“Even if a patient is delirious or unresponsive, they manage to feel comforted, because it’s as if someone is there with them. I remember a nurse on the night shift telling me they often see the little bear in patients’ hands. Comfort is the whole raison d’être behind palliative care.”

In some instances, says Ms. Dorcélus-Cétoute, the person who needs solace may even be a patient’s relative. In November, for example, a teddy bear found its way into the hands of a 2-year-old girl who desperately needed something soft to hold on to while her mother was in the Unit.

The very first Shaney teddy bear was the one that Ms. Weigensberg reacquainted herself with when she stepped into her son’s room a day or two after the accident. It was a personalized “stuffie” she had bought him many years earlier, with “Shaney” emblazoned on its sweater.

The supply of bears expands

Realizing that a similar bear might help her younger nieces and nephews cope with Shane’s death, she custom-ordered 20 of them from a manufacturer and gave them to whoever asked for one. “The Shaney bear needs to be held,” she told them, “and he’s a great listener.”

As word of mouth spread and the demand quickly increased, Ms. Weigensberg prowled stores of all kinds, including The Bay, Old Navy, the Gap, Joe Fresh and Walmart. There she bought bears (all roughly similar in size and appearance) in large quantities (usually at a discount), dressed them up, and sold them for $40 each.

The proceeds—starting with $3,000 at the end of 2018—went to the kinds of charitable organizations that would have been near to Shane’s heart, especially those that helped children. Among them were the The JGH Auxiliary’s Tiny Miracle Fund and the Starlight Foundation.

In a family room in the Palliative Care Unit, a troupe of colourful teddy bears, each in its own plastic wrapper, waits tranquilly until they can cuddle with a patient. (Click to enlarge photo.)

Over the next several years, Ms. Weigensberg and her husband, Cary, kept acquiring more bears—at a low price or as donations—from suppliers across Canada and the United States. The most recent batch for Palliative Care came courtesy of Montreal retailer La Vie en Rose. “Don’t ask what our basement looks like,” she says with a chuckle.

She also diversified, distributing smaller versions of the Shaney bear, as well as metal tags and rubbery bracelets that emphasize road safety and encourage recipients to think before they act.

The connection to the JGH was established through the Myra’s Kids Foundation, which organizes a wide range of activities, including a summer camp for bereaved children who have lost a parent or close relative. Ms. Myron volunteers at the camp, which is a regular recipient of bears donated by the Weigensberg family.

Once Ms. Myron learned of Ms. Weigensberg’s passion, they began discussing the possibility of distributing the bears in the Palliative Care. Staff in the Unit threw their support behind the idea, with the proviso that the bears be promoted mainly for their comfort, rather than as a memorial to Shane.

“That was absolutely fine with our family—100 per cent,” says Ms. Weigensberg. “It made perfect sense for the Shaney bear to be known for giving comfort and being comforted back.”

Ms. Myron says that while the bears are not a substitute for medication, family attention or other forms of therapy, they complement the support that the Palliative Care Unit provides. “What we always ask ourselves first is, ‘What does the patient need?’”

“It’s gotten to the point where we even talk about the bears in our rounds,” says Ms. Dorcélus-Cétoute. “They’ve really made a strong impression. In fact, we think of them as being part of our staff.”