On my way to PEDS for the start of clown doctor rounds, I descend a wide staircase into the cancer institute lobby. It’s a great physical comedy playground.
So many ways to take the stairs, especially going down because of the joys that naturally come with gravity – inertia, momentum, under control yet out-of-control, possibility of mishap, feigned danger. And there’s no such thing as straight down, either, if you consider the performing art of clowning a dynamic visual art as well.
Stop, pause, gather yourself, and breathe, then hop, gallop, jump one stair at a time, winding, syncopate, back up, stop short on the last stair, gather yourself, breathe, then execute the last jump. That last one’s always a doozy.
Once in PEDS, I knocked, heard a ‘come in,’ entered the room, and saw an empty bed. Wha? Where’d you go? It’s easy for me to be puzzled; kind of a natural state. Looked up and saw the patient, a teen boy with a big grin on his face, on the daybed by the window. Mom was giggling. Gave a quick glance at the whiteboard for his name, but it was blank.
What happened to your name? Who are you? He just kept grinning. Wasn’t going to help me out at all, so time to improvise.
Noticed that a pillow on his bed had the initials or logo MBU on it. Oh, you’re Mabu! Great to meet you, Mabu. I’m Dr. Fun E. Bone. They both found that hilarious, but never did get a correct name out of him, even though I gave Mabu constant call-outs and praise throughout a card trick and a paper rose twisting for mom. I’ll just see myself out, Mabu. Get well soon, Mabu. Mabu and his mom kept giggling, as did I, as I left the room.
Knock, knocked my way into another room. The boy (I thought about 6, later I learned he was 8), who was in there with mom, looked me over, then hit me with one of his own:
Knock, knock. Who’s there? Europe. Europe who? You’re a pooh?
Mom egged him on to tell another joke. What do you call a deer with no eyes? I don’t know, what do you call a deer with no eyes? No eye deer. (No idear, get it?)
Started doing a card trick with a new deck, showed the two jokers, plus me makes three jokers. Somehow, we got on the topic of the new Joker movie – mom wasn’t going to let him see that one – and bad clown images. He knew what fictitious meant. (I knew Dr. Fun E. Bone was in over his head with this smart, playful, precocious little guy.) Lucky for me, he couldn’t figure out how I found his card.
Asked him if I could draw his blood, and what color was it today. He said ‘red with an aura of blue. Because I’m part alien.’ What a crack up.
Guess that makes four jokers.
So many ways to take the stairs, especially going down because of the joys that naturally come with gravity – inertia, momentum, under control yet out-of-control, possibility of mishap, feigned danger. And there’s no such thing as straight down, either, if you consider the performing art of clowning a dynamic visual art as well.
Stop, pause, gather yourself, and breathe, then hop, gallop, jump one stair at a time, winding, syncopate, back up, stop short on the last stair, gather yourself, breathe, then execute the last jump. That last one’s always a doozy.
Once in PEDS, I knocked, heard a ‘come in,’ entered the room, and saw an empty bed. Wha? Where’d you go? It’s easy for me to be puzzled; kind of a natural state. Looked up and saw the patient, a teen boy with a big grin on his face, on the daybed by the window. Mom was giggling. Gave a quick glance at the whiteboard for his name, but it was blank.
What happened to your name? Who are you? He just kept grinning. Wasn’t going to help me out at all, so time to improvise.
Noticed that a pillow on his bed had the initials or logo MBU on it. Oh, you’re Mabu! Great to meet you, Mabu. I’m Dr. Fun E. Bone. They both found that hilarious, but never did get a correct name out of him, even though I gave Mabu constant call-outs and praise throughout a card trick and a paper rose twisting for mom. I’ll just see myself out, Mabu. Get well soon, Mabu. Mabu and his mom kept giggling, as did I, as I left the room.
Knock, knocked my way into another room. The boy (I thought about 6, later I learned he was 8), who was in there with mom, looked me over, then hit me with one of his own:
Knock, knock. Who’s there? Europe. Europe who? You’re a pooh?
Mom egged him on to tell another joke. What do you call a deer with no eyes? I don’t know, what do you call a deer with no eyes? No eye deer. (No idear, get it?)
Started doing a card trick with a new deck, showed the two jokers, plus me makes three jokers. Somehow, we got on the topic of the new Joker movie – mom wasn’t going to let him see that one – and bad clown images. He knew what fictitious meant. (I knew Dr. Fun E. Bone was in over his head with this smart, playful, precocious little guy.) Lucky for me, he couldn’t figure out how I found his card.
Asked him if I could draw his blood, and what color was it today. He said ‘red with an aura of blue. Because I’m part alien.’ What a crack up.
Guess that makes four jokers.
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