HOWARD LIPIN / Union-Tribune
Volunteer clowns Bill Pogue and Pat Schmidt visit a patient at Sharp Chula Vista Medical Center. The clowns volunteer several times a month at Sharp Chula Vista and Sharp Grossmont Hospital in La Mesa.
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If someone had told Bill Pogue he'd one day be meticulously applying makeup to his face or pushing his feet into striped socks and orange Converse high-tops, he probably would have told you to stop clowning around.
But now, after eight years visiting patients as a volunteer hospital clown, the La Mesa resident isn't turned off by the face paint or funny shoes. In fact, he quite likes them.
Pogue is part of Sharp Grossmont Hospital's LaughMobile Program, which brings volunteer clowns into the La Mesa hospital to visit with patients. Now the program has spread to Sharp Chula Vista Medical Center, meaning both hospitals host the colorful visitors.
Volunteers don their loud costumes and silly personas once or twice a month to entertain adult patients. (Children are generally not treated in these hospitals, except for emergency services.)
The clowns spend several hours moving from room to room, meeting with whoever is willing to see them, said Lisa Golden, manager of volunteer services for Sharp Chula Vista. “A lot of volunteer positions are behind the scenes, but for this one, there is definitely patient contact,” she said. “The clowns have escorts to make sure the patient is up for a visit.”
Many of them are. Patients like the break in atmosphere, when their sterile white rooms are lit up by larger-than-life characters wearing fluorescent colors and bright smiles. Syringes are replaced with balloons. Stickers and hugs are administered instead of medicine and hospital gowns.
“It arrests their attention,” said Pogue, a retired radiologist whose clown name is “Dr. Pokonose.” “They're wondering, 'Will the test show cancer? Will I be able to work again?' The minute they see you, your outfit is so garish, it just cuts right through their thought pattern.”
Patients get a dose of laughter, which can often aid the healing process.
“It eased my pain,” said patient Marita Nierva, who was admitted to Sharp Chula Vista for surgery. “I concentrated on them and my pain is gone.”
Pogue carries a Maltese dog named Thunder F. Doodlebug and a small tape recorder that plays circus music. He also holds a sign that says “Beware of the dog,” though Thunder could fit in his pocket. His white lab coat is covered in buttons that display corny jokes.
Volunteer Antolin Rodriguez, known as “Solecito the Singing Clown,” sings and plays his guitar for patients. He can be heard through the
hospital halls, his deep voice crooning songs in Spanish to many of the Latino patients. As he sings, their eyes close and their lips mouth the words.
Patient Richard Bartlett, 81, hummed the Spanish folk song, “De Colores,” with Rodriguez as he strummed the guitar in the hallway.
“He's good,” said Bartlett, who came to the hospital after experiencing chest pains. “I liked it a lot.”
Rodriguez likes to stop at the nurse's station, too. He recently led them in a rendition of “It's a Small World” as they clapped to the beat.
“The nurses enjoyed it,” said Deanna White, nurse manager of the Medical Surgical Unit in Chula Vista. “It's uplifting. They make us all laugh.”
In East County, about 11 clowns rotate through Sharp Grossmont monthly. The number is smaller in Chula Vista but so far the program has received a positive reaction, said Rosemarie Ballard, known as “Wower” in clown-speak.
Ballard, a Bonita resident, brought the program to South County. She spent most of her life in the entertainment business and now enjoys the focus of hospital clowning.
“It's not so physical,” Ballard said. “Energies are more centered on paying attention to patients.”
Some want the full act, while others just need to talk.
“Sometimes you're there in your clown outfit, pocket full of magic, and all you do is listen,” Pogue said.
Sharon Heilbrunn: (619) 
