Take A Breath and Trust

Last Thursday, as I left the ICU Unit, where I had been offering the nurses a treat from my bedpan filled with candy (a process I call “feeding the troops”), I heard a woman’s voice calling to me.

“Clown, Clown, come back.”

I turned around to see a tall, stately woman rushing after me.

“Oh,” she said, “I’m so glad I caught you. Would you please come visit my husband? He’s been a clown for 30 years. His clown name is Freckles.” Her words were rushing out. “He’s in a coma, and he’s dying, and I know it would mean so much to him if you would visit.”

“Of course.” I said. “Thank you for asking me. Lead the way.”

When we entered the darkened room, his wife went to his bed, and touching him on his arm, said, “Dear, there’s a clown here to see you.” And then she moved behind me and sat down.

The patient’s eyes were closed. His mouth was open and a tube protruded. In fact, a labyrinth of tubes and equipment surrounded him. His breathing was labored and noisy.

Let me pause here to say that as hospital clowns we are schooled to focus on the patient’s eyes when we enter a room, to try and read what the patient may be feeling—fatigue, boredom, fear, or anger— in order to determine what we can do to help. I am accustomed to looking past medical apparatus and into the patient’s eyes.

In this case, he was not capable of giving me a cue. I felt afraid. What could I possibly say or do?

In those seconds of doubt, I heard the voice of my clown teacher saying, “When you enter a room, take a deep breath, not from up high in your chest, but from way down low in your belly. Let your belly go soft and expand like a balloon. Then exhale slowly. As you are exhaling think of how glad you are to see the patient. And trust that an insight will come to you.”

I took a deep breath. To my surprise, these words came. “Hello. My name is Heart Throb. I am a clown with orange curls and hearts on my cheeks. I know that you have spent your life giving laughter and love to hundreds of people through your clowning. Today I am here to return that love to you. So you will feel surrounded by love.”

The man let out a breath that sounded like a growl.

From over my shoulder, his wife said quietly, “That’s the noise he makes when he wants to let you know he hears you.”

I nodded my head and turned to her,“Do you think he would like it if I sang him a song?” I asked.

“Yes, definitely,” she answered.

I sang words my mother used to sing when I was sick. And then I said my goodbyes.

Walking down the hall, I asked myself what I would want from a fellow clown if I lay dying?

I decided whatever inspiration came from a deep breath and a loving heart would be a comfort.