The Last Dose… and the Beginning of Joy
It was her final chemotherapy session—the end of a year and a half-long journey that was anything but easy.
Throughout her treatment, Lana was a very quiet child. She didn’t like to talk much and didn’t easily engage with us. In fact, it took a long time for her to warm up to us. Every time we visited, she would be holding her phone, her eyes fixed on it—as if it were a wall separating her from the world. She wouldn’t even look at us.
But we didn’t give up.
Visit after visit, we changed our approach. We started playing beside her, joining her world without putting pressure on her. Slowly, there was a small smile… then a glance… then a laugh.
And today?
When Lana sees us now, she runs and dances. And the phone? It no longer matters when we’re around.
Today, Lana’s mother saw me from the end of the hallway and called out:
“Come… come, you and Simsim.”
Her eyes were filled with tears.
She said:
“I want to remind you of something… A year and a half ago, it was my first day at the hospital, and I was completely overwhelmed. You and the clown, Lahza came, and I remember you telling me: ‘These are just days—they will pass. And one day, we’ll look back and they’ll just be a memory.’”
She continued:
“You stayed with Lana… and I was exhausted… and no one comforted me like you did.”
And today… we met again.
She said:
“Just like you said… the days passed.”
Today, Tufaha and Simsim…
Lana received her final chemotherapy dose.
And we celebrated…
She is healed!
The illness that took a year and a half from her is gone.
But at the same time, it taught us a powerful lesson:
Life sometimes puts us in very difficult situations… but we make it through.
Simsim and I sang to Lana:
“Congratulations… congratulations!”
And Lana?
She danced with her scarf!
Her mother turned on music on the TV, and a small celebration filled the room.
It was a deeply emotional moment… one that stays in the heart.
As healthcare clowns, we don’t just visit children to make them laugh…
We are there so that when they go through these difficult days—
and later look back on them—
they also remember who was there to make it a little easier.
We love you, Lana.
— Tufaha & Simsim