Airdrie & Coatbridge Advertiser

When laughter is the best medicine

Clowndocto­rs provide such a lift

- Niki TENNANT

It wasn’t until the Clowndocto­rs paid a virtual visit to her family’s living room that Airdrie mum Laura Mollins became aware of a previously untapped level of understand­ing within her son, who has complex needs.

Jason, six, has quadripleg­ic cerebral palsy, the result of a traumatic brain injury he sustained at the age of just five months.

The damage caused to his brain as a baby has left Jason unable to walk or talk. He has to be seated, supported, and strapped into a chair, and is unable to eat or drink. Fed through a tube in his tummy, Jason is also severely visually impaired.

Laura’s younger son is in Primary Two at Airdrie’s Mavisbank School for children with additional support needs (ASN) – which is where he was introduced to the magic of the Clowndocto­rs.

Laura said: “The Clowndocto­rs visited there quite frequently in pre-covid times.

“As parents, we got to hear about the children’s experience and how much they enjoyed it, but never got to see how it worked.

“It wasn’t until Jason started to have home schooling and virtual sessions that I saw first-hand what the Clowndocto­rs provide to families. What I can see is the enjoyment Jason gets from it and the fact that he is not seen as another person with a disability, just another number.

“It is phenomenal. He understand­s them, and they fully understand him as well.”

Laura explained: “If I am sitting on the floor with Jason during virtual sessions, he will have his toes at the camera, and the Clowndocto­rs act as if they are sniffing and tickling his toes.

“It is a level of understand­ing that I was not aware Jason had until then. He recognises the voices and noises they make. If they are playing a drum one day, or a didgeridoo, he associates that beat with them.

“The other day, after a session, I was drumming a wee beat on his chest and he was beaming from ear to ear. And his eyes were moving as if to say, ‘where are they?’

“They turn the noises he makes into songs, and the movements he makes, they turn into a dance.”

An equally enthusiast­ic fan of the Clowndocto­rs is Jason’s big brother, 11-year-old Kieran.

“Kieran thinks they are fantastic,” said single parent Laura, 28, who is grateful for the “great family support network” that surrounds her and her boys – and for the enormous support she receives from Mavisbank School.

“With Kieran home schooling, he will pop his head round the door to watch Jason interact with the Clowndocto­rs over the screen. I have seen him sneaking wee peeks and joining in with a tune.

“Kieran is a fantastic big brother, who is always there to help out when needed. He’s very patient with Jason, and has never resented him. If Jason is lying on the floor, he will lie down beside him and cuddle him. And he’s always trying to push him to do things.”

Laura cannot speak highly enough of the joy Hearts & Minds’ Clowndocto­rs bring to children and their families.

Following the injury to his brain, Jason had spells in hospital – and Laura has a vague recollecti­on of the Clowndocto­rs being around while she was waiting for her baby, who was under sedation, to have an MRI scan.

“I was sitting with other parents, all dreading the name of their child being called,” she remembers.

“When they came in, it changed the atmosphere of the whole ward. Everyone was happy and smiling. I wish I had their motivation. “With Jason being at home just now, it has shed a massive light on how much work they put in, and how much of a difference they make to a child’s life and to families. They’re trying to make your day a bit better – and 20 minutes of smiling is much better than not smiling at all. “Jason is just such a happy, contented boy and, on a dayto-day basis, you do not see Jason without a smile on his face. He finds enjoyment in everything. He loves attention, and a fuss being made of him – and he loves a cuddle.

“But, as a parent of a child with complex needs, every day can be a challenge. To have that Zoom session makes you forget about everything. It brightens up the day.”

In the face of heartache, tragedy and a sense of injustice as children approach the end of their short lives, Clowndocto­r Squeegie is protected by one tiny mask that shields her from those emotions; her red nose.

Actor Carmen Pieraccini, who played Kelly-marie in hit TV soap River City for a decade and has made several appearance­s in Taggart, has a passion for performing.

But, she says, to achieve real, meaningful, human connection in her line of work, there’s no greater role she can play than that of a Clowndocto­r.

Hungry for new challenges, 12 years ago Carmen decided to explore the art of clowning; not the hapless, circus type, in oversized shoes, a curly wig and exaggerate­d make-up, but a naive and optimistic clown who finds hope in every situation and excitement in the smallest things.

She signed up for a course run in Barcelona by world-renowned French master clown Philippe Gauglier, which gave her a fresh insight into the art and a desire to use her new skills to enhance the lives of others.

Following a successful audition with Hearts & Minds – an Edinburghb­ased organisati­on that promises to“improve people’s lives, one smile at a time”– Carmen joined the company, adopting the moniker Dr Squidgy.

“It’s an amazing company, with a great bunch of people who are all really like-minded but very different in our own artistic ways,”she explained.

“You do have to get on, because you work in partnershi­p, always working in pairs.”

Comparing the dynamics of the double act to Laurel and Hardy, Carmen said:“it works well if you are visiting kids who are a bit shy or worried about the environmen­t they have been in.

“We can play from afar and children can watch from afar – and maybe get a bit closer next time.”

When visiting children in hospital or in a CHAS hospice, she comes to the wards with a play specialist before getting into costume – a bright yellow coat and the clown’s trademark red nose.

Itwasn’tuntiljaso­nstarted to have home schooling and virtual sessions that I saw first-hand what the Clowndocto­rs provide to families Laura Mollins

“We don’t choose which kids we’ll see. It’s down to the play specialist or head nurse, who will identify a child who has been particular­ly bored, or another who could be doing with cheering up,” said Carmen.

“Names are a great way of connecting. It is about trying to be in the moment with the child as much as possible, tuning in to where they’re at, how they are feeling, taking their lead.

“From that, amazing things can happen. And, between my partner and I, if we can generate a feeling of joy, that’s what’s beautiful about being in the clown state.”

With lockdown putting a halt on in-person performanc­e, Carmen had to perfect her virtual act.

“Online visits have been quite challengin­g, but rewarding,”she explained.

“A lot of kids, especially those with complex needs, need more tactile play.

“Responding to their breath can be really powerful. Some have no speech and no sight – and that is when you particular­ly miss physically being with the child.

“Sound is a big thing, as is mimicking the kids. If a child has no speech, movement for them can be their speech – their means of communicat­ion.

“Through Zoom, you are entering someone’s environmen­t – their homes. It is a privilege to be allowed to be present there. And with the family there, you can generate a happy, family atmosphere, and the kid can pick up on that.

“You think,‘i am going to do my best here to help your child have the best time – and that is my gift’.”

Dr Squeegie and fellow “on-call”clowndocto­rs have been heartened to learn that some children who didn’t engage with them during physical visits have responded with excitement and enthusiasm to on-screen interactio­n while they’re shielding.

But Carmen – mum to four-year-old Jasmine and Rocco, aged two – wouldn’t be human if the reality of some children’s circumstan­ces didn’t occasional­ly break her.

“Sometimes you go into hospitals and you meet people who don’t have long to go. People often ask me how I deal with that,”she said.

“But I’m not visiting them as Carmen. I’m Dr Squeegie. The red nose is the smallest mask in the world and keeps you protected because you are in character.

“Yes, it is sad. After having my daughter, I was visiting a high dependency ward in Glasgow. I must have seen three babies in a row who were roughly the same age as Jasmine. I had to go and take off my red nose and have a wee greet. Then, I put it back on – and I was Dr Squeegie again.”

 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Stimulatin­g Jason with Dr Zap during one of her visits to Mavisbank School
Stimulatin­g Jason with Dr Zap during one of her visits to Mavisbank School
 ??  ?? All smileslaur­a Mollins with sons Jason, six, and Kieran, 11
All smileslaur­a Mollins with sons Jason, six, and Kieran, 11
 ??  ?? In character
Carmen Pieraccini as Dr Squeegie
In character Carmen Pieraccini as Dr Squeegie

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom