Dr. Red Nose’ Diary – You’re Finally Back!

On the morning of July 28, my partner and I stepped into China Medical University Hospital again after an absence of several months. As soon as we arrived at the nursing station, the busy nurses scanned the two of us with sharp eyes. I immediately introduced myself: “Good morning! We’re Dr. Red Nose, and we’re here to perform today…”

As soon as I finished speaking, I saw the nurse’s eyes light up above her mask: “Really? Is it today?” She turned to confirm with the head nurse—and yes, it was true: Dr. Red Nose were back! “That’s wonderful! I was still wondering when you would come back! We’ve missed you so much. You’re finally back!”

It is truly difficult to describe how I felt in that moment. For a long time, we have understood that, under the intense pressure of their work, medical staff may have no time to attend to things outside of work. But we clown performers have always kept these healthcare workers in our hearts. So, after these past few months, when we thought the presence of the Medical Clown might have already been forgotten, we returned in person and were welcomed like this—and we had been remembered! During the short walk to the lounge to prepare for the performance, my eyes grew a little misty.

During the pandemic, with the hospitals’ consistently strict controls, we Medical Clown always looked forward to the day when we could meet medical staff, children, and adults in real life again… Although we knew in our hearts that we would meet again someday, waiting without a definite date was always especially trying. Over these past few months, although we had virtual performances, we knew that there were even more children and adults who had not joined the video program and whom we could not reach. Thus, after these torturous months of waiting, when we stepped through the doors of China Medical University Hospital again, all the music and joy were no longer merely separated by a screen. Instead, we could feel the brightened eyes, excited steps, and warm laughter of everyone there because of the Medical Clown. While getting ready, we were both excited and grateful for our good fortune—this was real: we had returned to the hospital to perform!

Before setting out, we inspected our equipment one by one. Props, costumes, and, most importantly, the red noses! Everything we carried was carefully and properly disinfected. During these two years of the pandemic, our standards for everyday cleaning and hygiene have risen, but this had already been part of the Medical Clown’ routine before the pandemic. When performing in the hematology and oncology ward, all hygiene conditions must be examined according to the highest standards. Returning to the hospital after several months, I discovered that I still remembered every disinfection step, as ordinary as breathing—my body and mind still remembered the details of working in a hospital.

After changing, my partner and I decided on the songs for the parade. Before leaving the lounge, we unexpectedly felt a little hesitant and reluctant to move forward—this must be what it means to feel bashful upon returning home. It was clearly a familiar place we loved. We knew the ward layout on this floor, and we remembered every case the head nurse had just briefed us on. We could hardly wait—but what would happen during the performance? After all, we had been away for so long. Would everything go as smoothly as we hoped?

The facts proved it: it went even more smoothly!

We sang with everyone, danced with everyone, and laughed heartily with everyone—we even hugged! (We disinfected with alcohol several times both before and after hugging.) Nothing feels better than being in the same space, looking directly into each other’s eyes, and knowing that we were all happy and joyful. As always, the Medical Clown explored and played throughout the hospital, bringing childlike curiosity and sharing pure happiness with everyone in the hospital. That day, my partner and I played a pair of sisters who longed to become singing stars but whose vocal quality was quite extreme—thank you to all the judges in the hospital who were willing to listen to our wildly off-key singing!