
Came across a couple of young kiddos yesterday -- one in PEDS, the other in the ER -- who were just fussy and unhappy. One was getting poked and having a port cleaned up, the other had just been left by mom with the nurse to try to take a short breather.
A stream of little bubbles floating in from the doorway grabs their attention, an instant whimsical distraction. A vial of those wedding bubbles -- actually used the same exact kind at my niece's wedding over the weekend in Buffalo -- fits perfectly in a small pocket on Dr. Fun E. Bone's lab coat.
Then, as a playful relationship and interaction builds up, I can poke my head in, enter the room and step closer so the patients can follow the bubbles better, reach out and touch them, or let them land gently on their body or bed.
They catch colors and air currents and playful puffs of air and dance like snowflakes to their landing spot or, more likely, their gentle implosion. Kids inhale when I inhale, and their lips release the air when I blown through the wand.
And, if the time seems right, I pull out the big guy, my assistant Dr. Bare Bear (a Pustefix bubble bear). The kids love when I push him in the belly button and his magic wand pops up. And then marvel when the big bubbles float out.
They giggle, oo-and-ah, babble (or is it bubble babel?), laugh with glee, signal for more, and forget they're sitting in a hospital bed. It has become playtime.
And the medical professionals have happy, compliant, playfully distracted young patients and relieved parents to work with.
Ah, the magic of bubbles.