Good things for the day...

A great quote for today... no matter WHAT you do for a living

"do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, by all the means you can, to all of those you can…” 

- John Wesley

18th century reformer of the Church of England

A fantastic book to read (I just finished it last night)

Still Alice is a compelling debut novel about a 50-year-old woman's sudden descent into early onset Alzheimer's disease, written by first-time author Lisa Genova, who holds a Ph. D in neuroscience from Harvard University. Alice Howland, happily married with three grown children and a house on the Cape, is a celebrated Harvard professor at the height of her career when she notices a forgetfulness creeping into her life. As confusion starts to cloud her thinking and her memory begins to fail her, she receives a devastating diagnosis: early onset Alzheimer's disease. Fiercely independent, Alice struggles to maintain her lifestyle and live in the moment, even as her sense of self is being stripped away. In turns heartbreaking, inspiring and terrifying, Still Alice captures in remarkable detail what's it's like to literally lose your mind...        

(taken from Google product review)

Other great reading material - a new blog from one of my classmates and friends, Morgan. Morgan not only just got married but also just started her internship at West Music in Iowa. She is a wonderful up and coming therapist, she often set the (high) standard for our classes and I loved hearing her ideas. I have truly enjoyed getting to know her and cannot wait to read more about her adventures out in the field. Morgan's post "What the hell am I doing here " is one of my favorites. Check her out!

On my own...

Let's take moment to sing...

ok, just had to get my diva on for a moment. :)


Today was my first official day on my own <<fighting the urge to sing again...>>, though I ended up doing one visit on Friday unattended (I shadowed the team chaplain and while she had an urgent phone call I was up to bat. I sat with a patient's wife on Friday and used active listening, live music, proximity, reinforcement and prompts to help validate her, her husband, and their life together. After being with her for an hour and  half, playing some good old songs "none of that jive music" as she put it, and having her teach me the secret to a 65 year marriage I left that assisted living facility on cloud nine.

Today was just as wonderful. Since, the visits are "transition visits" my supervisor is attending them with me, but I have to do it all myself. And.I.Love.It!! From the patient who cracks me up continually to the sweet heart who sings along. From Irish tunes to American standards, introductions to documentation, I felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Sure! There are lots of things that I need to work on... realizing part way into a song that the meter is 4/4 as opposed to the 3/4 I am playing or having the gumption to just take the lead in a situation and "go for it". But as I continue on my journey I am continually faced with the question, "Isn't it hard to work in Hospice?"

Two months ago that was a real fear of mine. That it would be too hard. I'm a fairly emotional person. I cry at sad/happy/sappy/scary movies. I cry at weddings. I empathize with others to a fault. I had a very serious fear that this position would prove to be to much. To much death. To much sadness. Now, my honest feelings are not of fear or sadness. Rather they are of pride in the work that every one of the staff members on the hospice team does. The feeling of making a difference in the world. Ok... making a difference in the life of one person. I love the results I see...

• the tears of a wife as I sing Ave Maria
• the slow steady breaths of a patient with Pancreatic Cancer as I improvise at his bedside
• the recognition of a song for a patient with an Alzheimer's diagnosis as they sing along
• the comfort a patient diagnosed with dementia feels (and the much less agitated/more cooperative attitude they display) when being played music as they are given a shower
• the smooth transition from labored breathing while being assisted with a BiPAP to breathing on their own
• the memory made for a family member or an entire family as they spend musical (non-medical) time with their loved one

The work of a music therapist is profound and awesome. I do not feel sad working in hospice. Yes, today I held back a few tears seeing the major decline a patient had taken since the last time I had been to visit, but I am so grateful that I was able to do something for them to make that day, that hour of their life, a little better. I am privileged. I am blessed to be able to share my talent in a way that might help someone. I am so thankful that I have an opportunity to use my gifts this way. The founder of Seasons Hospice, Marcia Norman, MS, RN explains:

When we touch a single piano key, we hear not a single string, but the rich sound of many strings vibrating in harmony. When we touch a single life, the harmony that spreads enriches the lives of many. 

I'm not saying that I am any big deal. By no means. I am not out changing the world. But I just feel lucky to know that maybe I made a difference to someone somewhere along the way.

A man was walking along a deserted beach at sunset. As he walked he could see a young boy in the distance, as he drew nearer he noticed that the boy kept bending down, picking something up and throwing it into the water. Time and again he kept hurling things into the ocean. As the man approached even closer, he was able to see that the boy was picking up starfish that had been washed up on the beach and, one at a time he was throwing them back into the water. The man asked the boy what he was doing, the boy replied,"I am throwing these washed up starfish back into the ocean, or else they will die through lack of oxygen. "But", said the man, "You can't possibly save them all, there are thousands on this beach, and this must be happening on hundreds of beaches along the coast. You can't possibly make a difference." The boy smiled, bent down and picked up another starfish, and as he threw it back into the sea, he replied. "I made a difference to that one." 

The good... and the bad

I have two stories for you today...

The good:

I went to a facility the other day and met with a woman. She had a diagnosis of Dementia, she loved Irish tunes. She laid sprawled in a geri-chair, seemed very agitated, and all alone. At first my supervisor tried playing the guitar by her side but the patient was so agitated and uncomfortable. She kept trying to pull herself up and into a different position. My supervisor wanted me to jump in while she went to find a nurse to help move the patient to a more comfortable position. I got down on my knees, scooted right up next to the patient, reached out to hold her hand, and just sang every Irish tune I knew. (Thank goodness we always celebrated St. Patrick's day in Practicum - and that many residents in Iowa tend to have a strong German/Irish heritage). The patient turned to look at me and in a slurred, toothless, loud voice - she started singing right along with me... Oh Danny Boy, My Wild Irish Rose, I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover, even My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean... she looked at me, sang every word, and held my hand the entire time. When I ran out of Irish type tunes, I sang Scottish ones. I could have stayed with her forever. This Patient is exactly why I am so in love (already) with this work.

The bad:

There was another storm in Chicagoland earlier this week and as a result caused the worst power outages since 1998 (if I am not mistaken). Facilities were still running on generators and are getting HOT. When it gets hot, windows are opened. When windows are opened, flies get in. When you sing and there are flies in the room you run the risk of having a fly get sucked into your mouth. These are the risks music therapists face every day.

That's all I have to say about that.

Month One in Review

I am officially one month into my internship. How did that happen?! About 4 weeks ago I asked another intern if they felt that their internship time flew by. Their answer was no. So why does it feel like mine is?!

Today, the day after the 4th of July and a long weekend, I know many were dragging themselves out of bed and off to work. And while I admit that I love my bed, enjoy sleeping, and generally procrastinate getting up in the morning, I have to admit that I am amazed at my enthusiasm to be right where I am. One month in and I am honestly loving it. The patients, my supervisor, the other MTs, everything. I feel like I did on my first day of school at the University of Iowa - as if I was right where I was supposed to be. And that's a great feeling.

And so now, in honor of my past TA and the reflections I shared on my first day, I present you again with a positive/negative/ridiculous Month One Review.

Positive

1. I have been able to shadow so many different professional and have learned so much. Especially from the MTs here... they are all just simply amazing.
2. I have started having the opportunities to sing, play, and interact with patients and have had some fantastic results/experiences. I am confident that this area is exactly where I am supposed to be. Also, the data collection, documentation, and charting process is not as daunting as I was afraid it would be.
3. I know I am being pushed to be a better musician. I am being challenged and have already grown/learned so much. It's really nice and very exciting.

Negative

1. I am still trying to get comfortable with unresponsive patients. I can understand when the patient is sleeping and I'm ok if they are so progressed in their disease that they are no longer alert. BUT I am still very uncomfortable/awkward when the clients are unable to respond and you're not quite sure what is going on cognitively (for example: a patient diagnosed with Parkinson's and unable to speak but keeps eye contact).

Ridiculous

1. I was sitting observing a MT spending time with a patient who was sleeping. The MT utilized improvisational music to comfort the patient (easing the labored breathing and pain management), mask the sounds of the facility, and generally create a peaceful environment. The room was dark and the chair I sat in was sooo cozy. Let me tell you that THAT music therapy intervention was very successful the patients breaths became more even and deeper, their face and jaw relaxed, they showed no signs or symptoms of pain, they slept peacefully, and I had to fight to NOT sleep peacefully as well. :)

July is Music Therapy Month!

The awesome Dr. Russell Hilliard sent us an email today for Music Therapy Month with the following message:

Top 10 Reasons Seasons Hospice Loves our Music Therapists:

10.  They calm our patients and families.

9. They help our HCCs get a foot in the door.

8. They lighten and inspire our teams with their talents.

7. Their creativity stands above and beyond.

6. They make Seasons unique in our field.

5. They mentor interns into the profession.

4. They can answer any music trivia question.

3. They make our memorial services more meaningful.

2. They brighten the days of our loneliest patients.

1. They always have a song in their heart.

Why do you love music therapy or a music therapist?