the truth, isn’t it?”
Deanne stood staring at her with her mouth open. “Well, run along,” Mrs. Sanders said crisply. “Get your work done, then go see Mrs. Coffman. You two have a lot of work to do.”
Nine
“P am, I want you to act like nothing’s
strange about a roomful of doctors
playing video games while the patient lies on
the operating table waiting for surgery,” Mrs.
Coffman said. She stood in the room directing
the actors for the portable TV cameras.
Deanne giggled and glanced down at the clipboard. They already shot seven scenes and the production was going smoothly. She had to admit that she had been scared to death of the project when Mrs. Sanders had told her to do it. But, after discussing it with Clare Coffman, she became excited to do it.
The play had been fun, planning it, writing it, and getting the kids together. Pam had been chosen to be the Narrator. She would guide the viewer through an imaginary day in the life of an oncology patient.
The script was outrageous. There was a lot of fun made of the staff, the hospital, the treatments, and each other. Once Deanne had started talking about it to the kids on the oncology floor, suggestions about how to make it funny flowed like water.
Pam decided to play the part of the Narrator without wearing either a scarf or a wig. Her head was covered with a brown fuzz and she seemed proud to show it off.
“Very good!” Clare shouted as the kids played the roles of the doctors and ignored the guy playing the patient on the operating table. Their scrub clothes hung down to the floor and the patient lay wrapped in a sheet. He pleaded for the doctors to hurry up. “I tell you, I can’t wait all day,” the patient yelled according to his script. “I must get back to my room! It’s lunch time!”
“Cut!” Clare called. “Excellent! Deanne, where do we go from here?”
Deanne checked off the scene they just finished and said, “Let’s see. We need to go to a room so the Dietician can serve lunch.”
“Okay,” said Clare. “Who’s playing the Dietician?”
Matt stepped forward. “I am,” he said.
The troupe of actors, cameramen, staff, and assistants went upstairs into a room already brightly lit for the new scene.
“In bed, patient,” Clare directed.
The kid actors took their places. “Camera and . . . action,” Clare announced.
“Here we have the typical patient resting comfortably and waiting for her meal to arrive,” Pam said from her memorized script. The bed was aimed at a cockeyed angle so that the patient looked folded up in the bed.
Matt, as the Dietician, came into the room carrying a large tray heaped with thick cardboard cutouts of different food items.
“I have a wonderful meal for you!” he announced. He put the tray on the patient’s bedstand.
“It looks so stiff and unappetizing,” the patient said.
“You vill eat this or you vill be shot!” Matt shouted in a thick German accent.
Deanne kept stifling her laughter. She was having a great time and so was everybody else.
On cue, Susan rushed into the room carrying a three-foot-long foam rubber syringe. She yelled, “Shot! Shot! Did someone say shot?”
“Cut!” Clare called out. “Terrific, kids! That was just terrific.”
Deanne checked that scene off on her clipboard. “Now we need the VolunTeens giving the patient a sponge bath,” Deanne said.
Two younger kids, dressed in the familiar VolunTeen outfit, came forward carrying a basin of water, a rubber duck, and a blow dryer.
Pam began her narration. “One of the best parts of a patient’s day is when the friendly, helpful VolunTeen staff arrives to give the patient a nice, quiet sponge bath in bed.”
Immediately, the two VolunTeens began bickering over who was carrying the bowl. “I’ll do it!” the first VolunTeen shouted.
“No, you won’t! I’ll do it!” the second VolunTeen shouted back. They both kept tugging at the bowl they carried between them.
The bowl was dumped right
Deanne stood staring at her with her mouth open. “Well, run along,” Mrs. Sanders said crisply. “Get your work done, then go see Mrs. Coffman. You two have a lot of work to do.”
Nine
“P am, I want you to act like nothing’s
strange about a roomful of doctors
playing video games while the patient lies on
the operating table waiting for surgery,” Mrs.
Coffman said. She stood in the room directing
the actors for the portable TV cameras.
Deanne giggled and glanced down at the clipboard. They already shot seven scenes and the production was going smoothly. She had to admit that she had been scared to death of the project when Mrs. Sanders had told her to do it. But, after discussing it with Clare Coffman, she became excited to do it.
The play had been fun, planning it, writing it, and getting the kids together. Pam had been chosen to be the Narrator. She would guide the viewer through an imaginary day in the life of an oncology patient.
The script was outrageous. There was a lot of fun made of the staff, the hospital, the treatments, and each other. Once Deanne had started talking about it to the kids on the oncology floor, suggestions about how to make it funny flowed like water.
Pam decided to play the part of the Narrator without wearing either a scarf or a wig. Her head was covered with a brown fuzz and she seemed proud to show it off.
“Very good!” Clare shouted as the kids played the roles of the doctors and ignored the guy playing the patient on the operating table. Their scrub clothes hung down to the floor and the patient lay wrapped in a sheet. He pleaded for the doctors to hurry up. “I tell you, I can’t wait all day,” the patient yelled according to his script. “I must get back to my room! It’s lunch time!”
“Cut!” Clare called. “Excellent! Deanne, where do we go from here?”
Deanne checked off the scene they just finished and said, “Let’s see. We need to go to a room so the Dietician can serve lunch.”
“Okay,” said Clare. “Who’s playing the Dietician?”
Matt stepped forward. “I am,” he said.
The troupe of actors, cameramen, staff, and assistants went upstairs into a room already brightly lit for the new scene.
“In bed, patient,” Clare directed.
The kid actors took their places. “Camera and . . . action,” Clare announced.
“Here we have the typical patient resting comfortably and waiting for her meal to arrive,” Pam said from her memorized script. The bed was aimed at a cockeyed angle so that the patient looked folded up in the bed.
Matt, as the Dietician, came into the room carrying a large tray heaped with thick cardboard cutouts of different food items.
“I have a wonderful meal for you!” he announced. He put the tray on the patient’s bedstand.
“It looks so stiff and unappetizing,” the patient said.
“You vill eat this or you vill be shot!” Matt shouted in a thick German accent.
Deanne kept stifling her laughter. She was having a great time and so was everybody else.
On cue, Susan rushed into the room carrying a three-foot-long foam rubber syringe. She yelled, “Shot! Shot! Did someone say shot?”
“Cut!” Clare called out. “Terrific, kids! That was just terrific.”
Deanne checked that scene off on her clipboard. “Now we need the VolunTeens giving the patient a sponge bath,” Deanne said.
Two younger kids, dressed in the familiar VolunTeen outfit, came forward carrying a basin of water, a rubber duck, and a blow dryer.
Pam began her narration. “One of the best parts of a patient’s day is when the friendly, helpful VolunTeen staff arrives to give the patient a nice, quiet sponge bath in bed.”
Immediately, the two VolunTeens began bickering over who was carrying the bowl. “I’ll do it!” the first VolunTeen shouted.
“No, you won’t! I’ll do it!” the second VolunTeen shouted back. They both kept tugging at the bowl they carried between them.
The bowl was dumped right
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