
Clown rounds had been rather quiet that morning, then I walked into the Emergency Department and checked in at the charge desk.
“There’s a 14-year old male, in for vomiting.”
I just love getting that kind of challenge when I walk into the ER. A 14-year boy vomiting? What could be any better than that?
On the way to that pod, I grabbed one of those green plastic hospital barf bags to see if I could somehow play with it and use it as a prop. Discovered I could make it ‘pop!’ by snapping my fingers like you can do with a plain brown paper bag, so I had an idea I could use.
Swiped my badge to go through the door from one pod to another, walked past a tech about to do a blood draw with a teenage boy, waved, heard some chuckles and “yeah, he helps change the mood around here and take patients’ minds off why they’re here,” headed for the 14-year old’s room, found only mom, who said “he’s back there,” pointing to where I just was, and then I realized, oh, THAT’S the guy I just passed!
So I ambled back, said, “So there you are,” and offered to do a blood draw (with my crayons and pad) that he wouldn’t even feel. Did that with my usual artistic flourish, and that took his mind and attention off the poking that was going on in his right arm.
“You’re not going to hurl, are you? Because if you are, I need to know how far away I need to stand.” He laughed, assured me ‘no,’ so I brought out my barf bag, got a handful of (invisible, solid) barf out of it, tossed it up in the air, and caught it with a ‘snap’ of the bag. His eyes widened, I scooped it out, handed it to him, and had him toss it to me. Snap! Or plop, or smoosh, or whatever sound magic barf makes.
The tech was amused, and the boy had a magic barf bag to take home as a souvenir of his hospital visit.
Snap!
“There’s a 14-year old male, in for vomiting.”
I just love getting that kind of challenge when I walk into the ER. A 14-year boy vomiting? What could be any better than that?
On the way to that pod, I grabbed one of those green plastic hospital barf bags to see if I could somehow play with it and use it as a prop. Discovered I could make it ‘pop!’ by snapping my fingers like you can do with a plain brown paper bag, so I had an idea I could use.
Swiped my badge to go through the door from one pod to another, walked past a tech about to do a blood draw with a teenage boy, waved, heard some chuckles and “yeah, he helps change the mood around here and take patients’ minds off why they’re here,” headed for the 14-year old’s room, found only mom, who said “he’s back there,” pointing to where I just was, and then I realized, oh, THAT’S the guy I just passed!
So I ambled back, said, “So there you are,” and offered to do a blood draw (with my crayons and pad) that he wouldn’t even feel. Did that with my usual artistic flourish, and that took his mind and attention off the poking that was going on in his right arm.
“You’re not going to hurl, are you? Because if you are, I need to know how far away I need to stand.” He laughed, assured me ‘no,’ so I brought out my barf bag, got a handful of (invisible, solid) barf out of it, tossed it up in the air, and caught it with a ‘snap’ of the bag. His eyes widened, I scooped it out, handed it to him, and had him toss it to me. Snap! Or plop, or smoosh, or whatever sound magic barf makes.
The tech was amused, and the boy had a magic barf bag to take home as a souvenir of his hospital visit.
Snap!