Ding Dong’s Medical Clown Diary – Persevering to Break Through Emotional Barriers

The work of Medical Clown is warm and wonderful, receiving widespread support and recognition from the public. However, not every parent and child will open their arms to welcome clowns. Sometimes, at the entrance to a hospital room, parents will politely and tactfully say to us, “I’m sorry, he’s very tired today,” or, “He’s very afraid of clowns.” We always respect the parents’ opinions and express our understanding: “That’s okay. We’ll come again next time. Let him get a good rest today.”

Besides quietly leaving, we would usually also take a glance at the child’s condition. If they were lying in bed resting or sleeping, or hiding behind their parents and timidly watching us, we would know that they needed to rest today, or needed more time to slowly accept clowns. But if the child was actually looking at the clown eagerly from behind their parents when their parents politely declined, as if desperate to rush over to the clown, we would know that next time we could try staying a little longer to persuade the parents.

Aside from being shy around strangers, some children (or teenagers) are genuinely afraid of clowns, and some even dislike them. I still remember that whenever we went to the nursing station to ask about the children’s condition that day, the head nurse would always point to one of the rooms and say, “Don’t go into this one, because this little boy doesn’t like clowns.” We would always nod and say okay, but secretly resolve in our hearts to challenge this “unconquerable mountain.”

The first time we passed his room, we quietly peeked in through the window. Unexpectedly, as soon as his father saw us, he came out and said to us with an apologetic smile, “I’m really sorry, my son is afraid. Please don’t come in for now!” All right, first attempt: failure.

The second time we passed his room, we discreetly hid between the first and second doors of the hospital room (this was an isolation room with two doors) and played a gentle piece of music on the guitar and kalimba. But less than a minute after we began, we heard the little boy loudly shouting from inside, “I～don’t～want～clowns！！” All right, second attempt: failure.

The third time, we still quietly hid between the two doors and played gentle music as before. This time, however, there were no more shouts. He quietly listened to our entire performance. When we finished, the clowns could not contain their excitement and high-fived each other. We had finally taken the first step! (Although even at this point, we still had not met him face-to-face.) Third attempt: breaking the deadlock～

The fourth time, we gathered our courage and tried poking our heads out through the glass window—but not our own heads. Instead, we brought out our star performer, Little Dinosaur (a hand puppet), who curiously looked inside from outside the window. Little Dinosaur then sang a song at the top of his lungs outside the window, desperately trying to make sure the little boy could hear him (after singing the entire song, he was almost out of breath). This time, not only were we not driven away, but we also heard the child’s giggling. We were all incredibly encouraged and filled with energy. Fourth attempt: a huge step forward!

The fifth time, when we arrived at his room, surprise！！！The second door was actually open! This time, we brought out Little Dinosaur again. Finally, he successfully poked his head into the room and formally came face-to-face with the little boy! Not only did the little boy refrain from loudly driving us out, he even used his fire-breathing technique to attack Little Dinosaur until he was utterly defeated… And so, in the midst of the fierce battle between the little boy and the dinosaur, the two clowns successfully entered his room!! Soon, the clowns joined the battle as well. Red noses, puppets, and colorful balls flew all around the room. Even the child’s father joined the battle, and father and son used their powers together to beat the clown and Little Dinosaur until they repeatedly begged for mercy. In the end, unable to withstand the onslaught, the clowns fled in disarray, while the little boy stood on the bed with his hands on his hips and proudly said, “Next time I’ll definitely become even stronger!” Needless to say, everyone certainly knows: fifth attempt: super successful!!!

The clowns left the room and closed the door. Inside, they felt nothing but excitement. Over the course of these few weeks, we witnessed the little boy’s changes—not only in his attitude toward clowns, but also in his mental and physical condition. We could clearly feel that his health was steadily improving. The clown, who at first had been an outlet for his anger and stress, became a playmate to play with. Finally, through the process of defeating the clown, the little boy also received immense emotional comfort. Sure enough, when we went to the hospital again next time, the little boy had already been discharged.

In fact, the greatest reward and sense of accomplishment Medical Clown gain from their work is the trust and interaction that gradually develop with children over repeated visits to the hospital. No one knows what the future will bring, but the dozen or so minutes that clowns and children spend together in the hospital room each time are the most precious moments of heartfelt connection and shared memories. Of course, nothing makes a clown happier than seeing a child recover and return home!