Spending a month introducing play to a children's ward in Kimberley, South Africa, proved to be a rewarding challenge. The hospital is twinned with John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford, where I work as a play specialist.
My role was to help Annelise, a South African nurse, implement the play techniques she had observed during a six-month placement in Oxford.
On arrival I was shocked to find that children, aged from birth to 12 years, spent the majority of their hospital stay in cots with no stimulation. Nursing staff did not encourage the children to interact with each other and have fun. Bright murals on the walls appeared to be the only attempt to ease the children's stay.
I met a six-year-old boy who had lots to tell me in Afrikaans. Annelise translated that he'd been in a road traffic accident, and he enthusiastically told me about the huge knife used during surgery to repair his injured leg. This was all fantasy. In the UK he would have been prepared for surgery by a play specialist using books, toys and medical equipment to give him the facts and reassurance that he needed.
The hospital's paediatrician acknowledged that play specialists are needed to prepare children, stimulate them and make referrals to child psychiatrists where necessary. Unfortunately, South Africa is still a long way from having play specialists, as no colleges run training. But through my stay I aimed to make staff aware of the importance of play and see that great changes could be achieved by a supply of toys, volunteers to play with, a playroom, and education on how to communicate with children.
To this end I compiled a teaching session on how to play and communicate with children in hospital to alleviate their fears. The training was held twice a day for a fortnight so that as many staff as possible could attend.
A huge step forward came when staff agreed to turn their tearoom into a playroom and we introduced a daily play hour. I felt proud that staff were embracing my ideas and wanted to bring play into their nursing routine.
The play hour started at 10am. Annelise and I took along colouring tools, playdough and a variety of toys each day. We set up a table in the middle of the ward with the toys and encouraged children, their parents and staff to join in. Although most of the children did not speak English, I managed to communicate by smiles, hand gestures and translation.
The most popular activity was drawing. Even babies who were too young to draw were brought to the sessions by their mothers to stimulate them by being involved in this social time. I felt embraced by the children, parents and staff, especially when a mother told me that the children had been asking the nurses when the 'white lady with the bubbles' was arriving.
One toddler who was almost blind immensely enjoyed a bubble blowing session. He loved the feel of them bursting on his face. Doctors, nurses and other professionals gathered around to see what the screaming and laughter was all about.
Play hour transformed the children's ward, filling it with the sounds of laughter, singing and dancing. During my month I managed to get this play hour established on the ward and organised for the student nurses to lead it each day.
The playroom also started to take shape, with a cupboard to store toys in and an offer from the army to donate tables and chairs. A local church group donated toys, and members volunteered to come in and play with the children. I also enjoyed brightening up the ward's bathroom by decorating it with Disney character murals.
I felt I achieved a huge amount during my short time at the hospital. I left feeling that I had helped and supported staff in making the radical first small steps towards making play a normality in the hospital.
Change does not happen overnight and I appreciate that it could be another decade before play specialists are trained and employed in South African hospitals. But I left feeling happy that an important start had been made toward children having a less traumatic stay in hospital.
