Dr. Red Nose’s Diary – 100 Hamburgers

The first time I met C was when she was 13. During the pandemic, clown hospital performances were suspended for a while, but she and I still interacted occasionally. The most memorable time was in an isolated transplant ward. She was on the other side of the glass window, and I could only communicate with her by phone. The clowns pretended to order food from McDonald’s, joking that we wanted to order 100 McDonald’s hamburgers from her. She smiled and replied, “Okay.” We didn’t think much of it and continued happily chatting and joking before ending that day’s performance. Unexpectedly, a week later, the girl personally made an exquisite clay McDonald’s meal set and gave it to us! My partner and I were so moved that we were speechless.

Later, there was a period when we didn’t see her again, and we learned that she had completed her treatment and returned to normal life.

At the beginning of this year, her name appeared on the hospital list again. It turned out that her condition had worsened, and the tumor had made her extremely weak. Even so, whenever she saw the clowns, she would still force a strong smile, as if comforting everyone: “Don’t worry about me.”

Whenever a clown sang for her, no matter how tired she was (as long as she was still awake), or whether the clown’s performance went awry, she would always say that the clown had performed wonderfully. She always listened attentively and immersed herself in the clowns’ performances, and was always happy because of them.

Once, she was preparing to receive treatment when a clown happened to enter the ward. We originally thought that her condition would make it inconvenient to perform, but she said that she hoped the clown could stay beside her. So, my partner played the ukulele while I sang the gentle song “You Are My Sunshine” for her. After the treatment ended, I continued holding her hand and singing, holding back my tears.

She faced life’s challenges with such courage, and we will continue to accompany her wholeheartedly, letting her know that we are here and that she is not alone.

I hope she is safe and well.