A Day in the Life of a Hospital Clown

My husband Nicolas and I met in 2005 over boiled eggs in a hotel in Hannover. We were working at a theatre festival, he with a mask-theatre company and I as a giant kangaroo on bouncing stilts (true!). We were excited to discover that we were both “hospital clowns” – he in Switzerland and I in Australia. It was a conversation starter, and 12 years later I am still in Switzerland!

Nicolas is now a senior hospital clown with Foundation (Stiftung) Theodora, based in Lonay, and is also an artistic coordinator. He is the interface between the clowns in the German part of Switzerland and foundation headquarters, selects and trains new clowns and coordinates and leads workshops for the national conference. He is also the director of the Petite Orchestra project, creating interactive, musical comedy shows for handicapped children.

Following is an abridged, insider’s view of a day in the life of a hospital clown: Today Nicolas is headed to the Kinderspital in Zurich.

After a relaxed breakfast, the preparation for the day begins. Into the wheelie-bag go favourite props (tried and tested for over a decade), costume, makeup and shoes.

Nicolas arrives at the hospital at 11.30, where he meets Kurt, his partner for the day, in the staff canteen for a catch-up and some planning. After a strong coffee they enter the dressing room where they magically transform – Kurt into Dr Wolle (in English, Dr Wool) and Nicolas into Dr Klein (Dr Small, totally appropriate, considering he is 1.96m tall).

The clowns’ costumes develop over years and reflect the nature of the person behind the clown. To literally top it off, Foundation Theodora provides a special-purpose doctor’s coat with coloured appliqués, the clown’s “doctor” name and the foundation logo. There are enormous pockets both inside and out that are weighed down with surprises – magic tricks, balloons, puppets and… bubbles. Bubbles are a VERY important tool for hospital clowns. They are a great ice-breaker, can be smashed to smithereens with a balloon sword, can be “swallowed,” and just about everybody loves them.

Make-up is kept to minimum so as not to overwhelm anyone (including parents with a clown phobia, many of whom are cured after meeting the “clown doctors”).

They get into a playful mood using their ukuleles and rhythm instruments, and then it’s out into the hospital.

As they enter the corridor, a five-year-old girl calls out. She comes over with a big smile and asks their names. This is an invitation for the clowns to start a game. They ask her name and her mother’s name and then mix all the names up. The girl takes control of the game and, beside herself with dizziness, sorts everyone’s names out. Empowering the children is of paramount importance. They thank the little girl for helping them, and continue down the hall to the first ward.

The Staff

At the entrance of each ward, the nurses are busily going about their tasks. Most times, as the clowns appear, their reaction is bright and jokes fly back and forth. These days, the doctors also get involved for a laugh. 10-15 years ago there was less interaction between the staff and the clowns, but after so many years of the staff witnessing their healing powers, the clowns have become a valued part of the furniture.

Neonatology

One might wonder what a clown can do with tiny babies? The clowns take out their musical instruments and play soft, sweet music, and when a worried mother looks up and smiles, they know they are in the right place.

Day Surgery

In day surgery there’s a 10-year-old boy with a very sad face. One clown asks if he likes music. No response – 10-year-olds are a tough audience! They ask if he likes gifts. After a pause, he nods his head. The clowns say they have a wonderful gift for him but he needs to close his eyes. They take his jacket and put it in his hands and tell him to open his eyes again. He is not impressed. But the clowns tell him that the jacket is very valuable, that they brought it from far away especially for him because they thought it would suit him perfectly and that he should put it on. He agrees to play. They improvise a song about a movie star in an amazing jacket and when they leave he looks toward them with colour in his face and all signs of sadness gone for the next little while.

Oncology

There is a lot of space for happiness to be brought into this department. A four-year-old boy is asleep with a lot of tubes connecting him to machines. The boy’s family are there, including his six-year-old sister. To reduce noise the clowns tell her they are hungry and decided to have a lunch of bubbles. The little girl joins in on the silent feast. Suddenly, the boy is awake, stands up in his bed and joins in. When Dr Klein gets the hiccups the little boy starts laughing and the “Stop the hiccups!” game begins. The whole family take turns at scaring Dr Klein until the little boy starts yelling “Boo! Boo!” belly-laughing each time. He frightens Dr Klein so much that his hiccups stop! As the clowns leave the room, the little boy and his family are smiling from ear to ear. They were relieved of their worries for a short and precious time.

Dialysis Room

A teenage girl sits hooked up to a dialysis machine for yet another entire afternoon. As Dr Klein enters, she tells him that she has finished her book and hasn’t got another one, and with so many hours to go, this is bad news. Dr Klein sits next to her and tells her the story of the time a girl finished her book and didn’t have another one. She joins in and adds to the tale. By sharing this story, the clown and the teenager start a lasting friendship. As the weeks pass, they continue their story. Sometimes they just talk private stuff – perhaps about a boy she really likes at school (and she makes Dr Klein promise not to tell anyone).

The End of the Day

Dr Wolle and Dr Klein go back to the dressing room with many images and emotions from their day of producing smiles. They take off their costumes and make-up and debrief, remembering special moments with each other, the children, their families and the staff. Everything is packed back into the wheelie bags, warm coats and hats are put on and good-byes are said.

Like with all jobs, stories are brought home to the spouse and family. So many laughs, incredible firsts with children who might not have made a movement or sound for weeks, many smiles from siblings and parents who were so sad beforehand. Its not all about making jokes and balloons but making lasting and deep connections and providing an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on – and is possibly the most rewarding job in the world.

By Michelle Seaton Witte

Michelle is a life coach, birth educator and peri-menopause tribe leader based online and living in Zurich. Connect with her at www.michelleseatonwitte.com and on her Facebook page. 

Photo credit: Stiftung Theodora.

The Theodora Foundation

Since its beginnings in 1993, the Theodora Foundation has pursued its mission; to bring laughter and joy to children in hospital. Today, the Foundation organises and funds the weekly visits of 70 professional artists – the Giggle Doctors – in 34 hospitals and 24 specialist care centres for children with disabilities across Switzerland. In 2016, these funny and intriguing characters spread smiles and moments of happiness at more than 110,000 visits to children.

The Giggle Doctors are specially trained and work closely with care specialists. The Foundation offers five programmes: Giggle Doctors and Pre and Post-Surgery Assistance Programme for young patients in hospital; Mr. and Mrs. Dream and Little Orchestra for the Senses for children with disabilities; and The Lil’ Champs for children in obesity therapy.

The Theodora Foundation is a recognised charity and does not receive any funding from hospitals or the State. The much-loved weekly Giggle Doctor visits depend entirely on donations from supporters and partners.

Website 
Donations account PC 10-61645-5

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