At age 55, Patch Adams
is a social revolutionary. A dreamer without the time to dream. Sleeping only
3-4 hours a night, he is driven by a mission improbable. Not satisfied to
simply establish The Gesundheit! Institute in West Virginia, a hospital free
from insurance companies, unhappy patients and uptight doctors. He has also
taken on the cause of freeing orphans in Russia.
In 1985 Patch Adams went to
Russia as a nasal diplomat. (no, not naval, though I suppose he’d have worn red
lint in his bellybutton if it generated a laugh). Rather than speak Russian (the
only word he knew was “Dr. Thiago”) he preferred to speak Clown. His passport
was a photo of himself sporting a massive red rubber nose. He shared laughter,
love and dozens of red noses (no, not roses, though I suppose if he’d had a
rose, it would squirt water) with Russians in the street. He danced with them,
giggled and sang with them. He visited hospitals and orphanages and laughed for
two weeks with Russian children and soldiers alike. He has returned each year
to Russia. But not all is joy and mirth. Touched by the plight of some orphans
who were at the mercy of soulless men, he was determined to build his own
orphanage to protect these kids. When it comes to orphans, this clown is dead
serious. Each fall he returns with a large troupe of builders/doctors/clowns.
Dr David Hepburn: “So how do
you support your various projects?”
Patch: “Since the
movie, it has become much easier to fun(d)raise. I do a lot of what I call “networking”
as I conduct various “play shops” across the country.”
Dr Dave: “As opposed
to workshops.”
Patch: “It’s not work
to me. It’s a passion.”
Dr. Dave: “Can you
explain your concept of “fun death”?”
Patch: “Death gets a
lot of bad press. Doctors look at it as a therapeutic failure while patients
are taught to dread it. Why not make dying a glorious swan song rather than a
morose and lonely event? For most of this century, birth was a lonely event
with the mother in pain and alone in a hospital room with a masked doctor. Now
it is more celebratory as we have birthing classes and fathers and friends
involved. Why not have dashing classes to prepare us for death. Why not a
celebration of being together before we die, rather than after
the fact. Dying is that process a few minutes before death when the brain is
deprived of oxygen; everything else is living.”
Dave: “So rather than
the Grim Reaper, you would like to see Death personified as...”
Patch: “The Happy
Hooker, so to speak.”
Dave: “Tell me about
the physicians and other caregivers you use at your hospital.”
Patch: “Caregivers who
are caretakers. They and their families will live on site and earn less than
$3000 per year.”
Dave: “$3000! Is that
a typo?”
Patch: “Nope.”
Dave: “$3000? Maybe
the newspaper copied it down wrong.”
Patch: “Not at all.
Furthermore, thousands of doctors have applied to work at the hospital for that meagre amount. They appreciate that this will be a place where they can
practice medicine as it was meant to be.”
Dr. Dave: “Finally
Patch, I must ask, did you really bare your backside when you graduated?”
Patch: “You don’t
think I’m capable of that?”
Dr. Dave: “Oh
geez....Patch... don’t....you’re not going to....hold off now....sheesh ... I
would have taken your word for it.”
Patch: “But how much
fun would that have been? Listen, this interview is just chatter. If you want a
real interview, why don’t you join me in Russia this fall for a couple of weeks
and help build the orphanage? Can you speak any Russian?”
Dr. Dave: “Dr.
Zhivago.”
Patch: “Perfect. Let’s
send in the clowns.”
