by Erin Harde

Through laughter and folly, two giving women make a difference in the lives of Saskatoon patients and residents.

Carole Collins transforms into her therapeutic clown character Lavender. Instead of painting a full white face, Collins uses only a little makeup, which is less intimidating to patients or residents who are anxious about strangers.

From the moment Lavender and Humblebee enter the room, the laughter doesn't stop. It could be the jokes they tell, the balloon animals they create, or just the sheer silliness of their presence, but they have succeeded in their mission to bring joy to people's lives.
Lavender and Humblebee are therapeutic clowns, a type of clowning becoming increasingly popular in Saskatchewan hospitals and long-term care facilities.
For patients and residents, the clowns are more than just entertainment. They use their humour and clowning accessories to take patients from a stressful world of hospitalization or loneliness into a world of imagination, fun and mischief. This allows the patient or resident to see their environment in a more positive way. Caring clowns are someone to talk to, laugh with and most importantly, they are a friend.
Lavender and Humblebee quickly become friends with three elderly women thrilled to have such colourful guests visiting them at Cedar Gardens Care Home in Saskatoon. “They are really something,” says Wilma Andel, an Alzheimer's disease patient. A broad smile lives on her face for the entire hour the clowns are there. She giggles when they ask her what her clown name might be and agrees to “Willy” at Lavender's suggestion. When Humblebee plays “You Are My Sunshine” on her mouth organ, Andel bursts into song with Lavender. By the end of the visit, Andel insists the clowns come again because she's had so much fun.
Unlike those who entertain at birthday parties and circuses, this breed of clown doesn’t have a set routine, basing their performance on the needs of the audience. They might sing and dance with another clown, tell stories, or simply hold a patient's hand and listen to them. It is this loving care that attracted Lavender, (also known as Carole Collins), to the profession when she became a clown in 1999 and co-founded the Saskatoon Clowns with Heart Association. She explains that anyone can be a therapeutic clown, but that being sensitive and silly are job requirements. She begins visits with patients in a hospital or long-term care home by blowing bubbles into the room and then introducing herself. “That takes their pain or discomfort away for that moment or second,” she explains.

Collins is good company for people like Tina Vetter who live in long-term care homes and don't get many visitors outside of family. Also a trained laughter instructor, Lavender easily gets a giggle out of the people she visits.

Humblebee, (also known as Rachel Kowaluk), notes a clown's presence alone can take away loneliness and depression. “One lady just started laughing at the sight of me and didn't stop until I left,” she says. Other times, patients aren't in the mood for company, and Collins always feels out the situation before jumping into her routine. She describes a time when she visited a patient who had just had surgery and quickly knew that he wasn't in the mood for company. Another time, a little boy simply wanted to touch her face. "It was such a novelty for him.” But her favourite places to visit are long-term care homes because her mother lived in a home and Collins can relate to the loneliness often experienced by those residents. “They only have family to visit and there isn't always enough time for staff to organize other activities. I feel for them.”
Many times while visiting either a long-term care facility or a hospital, Collins brings her young grandson with her. She notes clowns can be any age and older people especially like children. She says children are natural at “being in the moment” and are instinctively sensitive to people. She is inspired by her grandson and through him realizes how important it is to be childlike and playful. In this way, it isn't only the patients and residents who benefit from clowning, but also the clowns themselves. “For me personally, just to touch someone's heart and to know that for a few minutes you have uplifted them is worth it,” says Collins.
And she has no plans to stop in the near future. “I just don't plan on ever growing up,” she says in her special Lavender voice.