Friday, March 13th, 2020, has also become known as the end of the world as we know it. It was the day after the Utah Jazz called off the rest of their NBA season due to a player contracting Coronavirus. Unimaginable. There was a feeling that uncertainty was the only thing to be certain of. My partner Monday and I stood in front of an elementary school audience, filled with a largely transient, non-English speaking group of first and second graders, delivering our nineteenth live performance of the week. That’s right. We had packed the shows in at school after school that week as kids prepared for spring break. We had also done shows at a couple of senior living centers and libraries. Little did we know they would be our last live performances for at least the next six months.
And as dramatic as that sounds, that is not even the story I want to write about at this moment. I want to consider the role of the clown – and in particular, the healthcare clown in moments like these. Our job is to meet people where they are, physically and emotionally, and find a way to uplift the moment, the day or their lives….with humor. Our ability to do that was cut off, practically in an instant. Of course we were not alone – the whole world had been suddenly turned on its ear and everyone was scrambling. As the shock wore off and the reality of the situation sunk in, we began to ask ourselves how can we find relevance in this new world? How can we possibly survive, make a living, continue bringing joy in a world filled with anguish. And then we ended our pity party and started to pivot.
Pivoting a business based on live interaction to something virtual seemed impossible. But, as necessity is the mother of invention, a few of our colleagues and us got together and launched Nose to Nose Visits, a personalized visit between the patient and a couple of clowns. It was quirky at first, trying to get the hang of the format, but it did not take long for us to realize that there was a new kind of magic in these exchanges. We never would have chosen an online format in order to reach kids with clowning and humor, but when there is no choice, we do what we must do. What we have learned is that by putting healthcare clowns into the device for a live interaction with the kids, we have discovered a new way to capture their attention with the transformative power of laughter – a new tool in our toolbox. We have consistently grown and continued to develop this new format for maximum benefit to the patients and families we serve. As well, we have been able to accompany patients into procedures where we were previously not allowed. This has allowed us to remain present with a child during a procedure and be able to continue distracting them while the doctors continue their work on the child. A secondary benefit has been using these Nose 2 Nose visits to visit with children and teens on the spectrum who have also been cut off from many of the activities they love, and in their case it is even harder to help them understand what is happening. These visits have been filled with laughter and connection. We have had super meaningful visits with this very special population that we have fallen in love with.
However, as powerful as these visits have been, nothing can match being live and in person with our clients, and so we were thrilled on June 1st, when we were brought back onto live rounds - even as Covid cases soared. This made us all a bit nervous at first. We quickly realized that we felt safer at the hospital than at the grocery store, and that although we had to substantially cover up our expressions with masks and shields, the heart of the clown still found its way through the layers. Perhaps the best unintended benefit of this whole process has been how much more we have felt like an integrated and important part of the care at the hospital. And that is the point of this blog.
In just one day of rounds, we helped an Occupational Therapist get a kid to work through his extreme pain and find laughter and be able to sit up unassisted for six minutes. We entered into a lyrical five minutes of beautiful dance and expression with a five year old non-verbal child with cancer that brought her father to tears of joy at the sight of her happiness. We intercepted a fast-moving, high energy boy with IV pole attached who had exhausted the nursing staff with his efforts to leave his room and run through the halls. We built up a teenager suffering from self-doubt and saw him truly belly laugh. We made an appearance in the Zoom classroom of one of our patients. We honored a three year old’s intense belief that she is an actual princess. We brought music to the hallways. Each day, we are present. We are part of the team. We bring a color to the care of these children that is unique, but serves to complement the rest of the staff. We take on the responsibility of reflecting light on everyone – at using humor to help people catch their breath. I would be remiss if I did not mention that the levity we bring has landed on the staff as well, and when we can see them look up and smile for a moment, we know we have a role to fill. We clowns aim for the laughs, but just as often we celebrate moments of empathy shared with essential workers in truly devastating times. Through the years, I have occasionally let negativity make me question our place in this world of healthcare, but those voices are silent now. And THAT has been the gift, or silver lining, of Covid.
A quote from yesterday:
“Thank you Drs. Doodles and Slappy for visiting my 3 year old baby daughter today. It was such a respite and distraction and also a joyful connection that was made through laughter. Thank you for what you do.”
