Help Heal Children in Hospital - Laughter Heroes

A Snapshot of a Day in the Life of a Jabulani

Yesterday (at this time of writing) was typical of any for members of the Jabulani Kingdom — visiting a side of life unseen by the majority: hospital wards full of critically-ill children (often with parents sitting at the bedsides, looking both helpless and hopeless).

After putting on my outfit at home (identifying me clearly as a ‘fun uncle’) I went to the Donald Gordon Medical Center where I did my fantasy magic tricks and modeled balloon animals for the kids — most lying immobile in bed, but a few ambulatories. One two-year-old was awake but lying face-down, and — while making funny noises — I tapped my fingers gently up and down his spine. (No, he didn’t have a spinal problem.) He gurgled but didn’t turn over, and his mother told me he was both blind and deaf. After (as a ‘visual’ entertainer) — hesitated for a moment, I decided to made him a ‘balloon mouse’ and, when I put it into his hand, his reaction to feeling the unexpected toy was humbling. He chortled happily, while fondly squeezing, stroking, and patting the unfamiliar texture of the ‘mouse’. . . something that we, who are sighted, take for granted.

Then on to three pediatric ‘open wards’ at the Rahima Moosa Hospital, where many of the children are at least slightly ambulatory. I started moving from bedside to bedside for those confined, until a staff member asked if I could jump ahead to a six-year-old who was imminently to go for ‘a sonar’, and was afraid I would be gone when he got back. I quickly made him a balloon rabbit — and got the staff member pushing the gurney to promise that the rabbit too would have a sonar. The boy was ecstatic, and the staff standing around the gurney chuckled.

Later, while I had half a dozen children around me in a corner, a distinguished looking gentleman led a group of adults into the ward, chatting to them while I was entertaining the kids. Noticing me, he broke away from the group and approached me, asking who I was with. When I told him I was with Reach For A Dream, he thanked me/us profusely, introduced himself as Professor XXXXXX, and commented: “You chaps are doing a great job!”

Thank you, RFAD, for letting me share in your “great job”.

—MAURO JABULANI

PS: From my perspective, I have come to realise over the years that the children RFAD has permitted me to ‘entertain’ are doing more for me than I’m doing for them. At the end of every ‘visit’ I mentally recite as a kind of ‘mantra’: “Mauro, you have really nothing serious to complain about!!!” And — since coming to this view of life —I pass this concept on anyone I meet who responds to my greeting (“How are you?”) with “I’m fine!”, “I’m okay!”, “I’m good”, “I’m well!”, etc., by telling them of many people I know who are all those things . . . but not ‘happy’; so, in future, they should respond: “I’m HAPPY!” They get the point!

MY FAVOURITE MEMORY OF BEING A JABULANI

During one visit to the Chris Hani / Baragwanath Hospital I popped in to a tiny ICU ward with just one little 7- or 8-year-old girl by herself in isolation. (I didn’t ask her or any of the staff ‘What’s the problem?’ — my business there is just to ‘entertain’, primarily the patients, secondly the parents [if appropriate], and lastly, the staff [again, if appropriate]) I made a balloon animal and did a few age-appropriate tricks and spent between five and 10 minutes there maximum.

Exiting the room to move on to the next ward a doctor stopped me in the corridor. [At this point I must stress that we had never before met, or knew each other’s names — so there was no ‘social contract’ for either of us to wave or say anything.] The doctor, without even introducing herself, said: “That young girl has been here in ICU for the past 15 days — and this is the first time I have seen her smiling!” . . . a totally ‘unsolicited testimonial’. Yes, the social workers and others we know of the hospital staffs do often commend our work . . . but I have wondered if they may be just encouraging us in admittedly not a ‘happifying’ environment. [Entertaining ‘well’ children ‘bouncing off the walls’ at their homes is a totally different experience — so If I can get even a smile from a chronically-ill, bed-bound youngster, I feel I’ve got through to them.]

And regularly — as I enter a big ward at any hospital — the kids recognize the outfit and scream: “Jabulani!!!” . . . and those that can jump out of their beds, do so, and I get swamped!

Laughter is the best medicine. This adage holds true in the hospitals where the wards are filled with laughter thanks to the Jabulani team. Each Jabulani entertainer’s aim is to bring a smile to the children’s faces, through a number of acts including tricycles, juggling, balloon sculptures, magic, face paint and, above all, silliness.

Laughter is known to strengthen the immune system, boost energy, minimise lethargy and decrease stress. These effects are important for both the children suffering from life threatening illnesses and their families, who often need a few minutes of sheer fun to alleviate the stress of being in hospital.

Here are some special stories from our Jabulani's:

Mauro Jabulani: 

A doctor approached me and said : “That young (7- or 8-year-old) girl has been here in ICU for the past 15 days and this is the first time I have seen her smiling!” But regularly—as I enter a big ward at the same hospital mentioned above—the kids recognize the outfit, and scream “Jabulaaaaniiii” . . . And those that can jump out of their beds do so, and I get literally swamped!"

Jesta Jabulani:

I find that every time a child or parent laughs, I am contributing and making just a little sunshine in an otherwise gloomy environment. I have learnt a great deal of respect for nurses, doctors and people dealing with adversity.

Radio Jabulani:

Just a few months into being a Jabulani, I walked into a ward at the Steve Biko Hospital where one of the little boys was crying. Being in a playful mood, I decided to make balloons for all the children. Most were boys, so I made balloon swords. As we were playing, the crying of that one little boy became less and less. Eventually he got out of bed and came closer to investigate, at which point I made a balloon sword for him as well. Within a few minutes he had joined the rest of the crew running around with their balloon swords! The sisters were very grateful and said he has been crying for long time, as he had his operation earlier that day. They didn’t think anyone could get him to smile, let alone start running around. That was one of the first memorable moments that made me appreciate and love what I do even more."

Links:

• Find out more about Reach For A Dream and the Jabulani Kingdom