The address that helps most is often not the patient's. When somebody is admitted at Ruby from three hours away, the people who need a sign of life are the ones sleeping in a chair — and in this market they are frequently not sleeping at a house at all. The Rosenbaum Family House on the hospital campus exists precisely for those families, and the hotels along Chestnut Ridge Road and out by the University Town Centre in Granville hold the rest. A father on his fourth night in a vinyl chair, living off a vending machine and a cafeteria that closes early, gets more from an arrangement on the table of the room he is sleeping in than the patient gets from one on a sill they are too ill to turn towards. If the unit is a closed one, this stops being a preference and becomes the only option: critical care does not take flowers through the door at all, so the delivery aims at the waiting area or at the family's lodging, and what the order needs is a name and a mobile number for whoever is holding the vigil. The hand-off then happens in the lobby, not on a floor. Name the unit anyway — it tells the bench what can be built.
Three buildings on this grid need to be treated as separate problems rather than as parts of one hospital. WVU Medicine Children's now occupies its own tower on the Health Sciences ridge with its own entrance, and it holds the referral newborn intensive care for the state — which means the parents of a baby transferred in from a county hospital may be here for weeks with nothing of their own around them; the family's room is usually the better address, and for the tower itself, ask what the unit accepts before you order. The Mary Babb Randolph Cancer Center is the other one people get wrong, and the reason has nothing to do with pollen rules. A course of treatment there is an appointment, not an admission: people park, sit for a few hours with a line in, and drive themselves back out toward Kingwood or Bridgeport the same afternoon. Anything delivered to that building arrives after the chair is empty. Send it to her own kitchen instead, timed for the morning after the appointment, which in most households is the worse of the two days. Chestnut Ridge Center, WVU's behavioural health and psychiatry hospital, is not on the hospital campus at all — it is out on Chestnut Ridge Road — and its precautions exclude glass, wire and any length of ribbon outright. What a patient there can be given is a soft container with the stems set into a foam block and not one hard or detachable part in it, and the unit is worth a phone call rather than an assumption.
The two hospitals people confuse are Ruby Memorial and Mon Health Medical Center, and they are not the same address or the same side of town. Mon Health sits at 1200 J.D. Anderson Drive on the north side, off the Van Voorhis corridor, and it is the community hospital — shorter stays, more local patients, a much simpler delivery. Ruby is up on the Health Sciences ridge past Evansdale. Give the hospital by name and the room number if you have it, because a driver sent to the wrong one loses forty minutes in Morgantown traffic that no amount of goodwill recovers. And then there is the building where get-well flowers genuinely earn their place: Encompass Health Rehabilitation Hospital on Van Voorhis Road. Stays there run two to four weeks, not two to four days, and unlike an acute floor the room becomes something the patient actually lives in. A bouquet that would be cleared away in a day at Ruby sits on a windowsill at Encompass for a fortnight and gets looked at every morning. If you are choosing one address on this page, choose that one.