Beginning again...

Monday was my first day as an employed BOARD CERTIFIED music therapist. It feels like I keep having "firsts" .... "first interview" "first day"... but I have to be honest, I am so excited to get going in this new position. I was offered the job to work for Midwest Palliative and Hospice CareCenter a few weeks ago and have eagerly awaited my February 13th start date.

My first day went fairly smoothly... I didn't trip, or spill anything on my shirt. I didn't lock myself in the bathroom - but who would do that? Honestly. HOWEVER! No day would be complete for me without the slight embarrassment or odd first impression. My new position is in a northern suburb of Chicago, further north than Seasons' office and I needed to show up at 8:30am on Monday morning. Being my neurotic self, I decided I better give myself extra time for travel just in case of traffic. This sounds like a reasonable idea, right? Well, I drug myself from my bed and snugly little puppy at the ungodly hour of 5:30am in order to be up and at 'em by 7am. Alright, I realize that a LOT of you out there likely get up that early... or perhaps even earlier. Kudos to you. You are awesome and I give you a lot of credit. But I've been unemployed a trophy wife for the past monthish and 5:30am was no longer in my vocabulary. Go on and judge me if you must.

Out on the road I saw the sunrise over the city (the Sears tower - I will always call it that - gleaming in the distance), I politely waved to other commuters who allowed my to change lanes, and listened to the ridiculousness of morning radio personalities jabbering about the Grammy awards. My GPS faithful led the way and as I pulled into the parking lot I stared in disbelief at the digital clock... 7:45am. 7:45?! I had successfully showed up for work 45minutes early. My new HR buddy had dealt with me being 15 minutes early for both interviews, but 45 minutes seemed a bit excessive. So, I did what any other normal human being would do. I parked my car and went back to sleep... or at least tried to sleep in the way that you can kind of sort of sleep in a chilly car after having showered, driven, and fully woken up for the morning. I set the alarm on my cell phone to alert me to enter the building at a more socially acceptable hour. After a while of reclining somewhat stiffly in a Prius with my sunglasses and scarf, I heard a tap on the window.

Sleeping in your car... clearly I was doing it wrong.

"Are you ok?" a rather distinguished and professional looking man asked me.

"Oh yeah!" I replied forcing a casual and probably stupid laugh. "I just am supposed to meet someone here at 8:30, but I got here at 7:45, and that was just too early, you know? So I thought I'd just wait and rest a while..." I quickly blurted out.

"Oh, ok" He said looking at me like I was some kind of crazy person... but really, this was totally normal right? "It's just that someone saw you and they were kind of concerned..." Yep, I look like a crazy person.

"Oh well... hee hee... no problem... ha...." I reassured him.

"Alright." He slowely backed away from the car.

"Have a great day!" I called after him. Yep. That's me. Annie Walljasper, your new co-worker. Board certified music therapist. Weirdo extraordinaire. I make a great first impression.

Throughout the rest of the day I kept praying that I would not run into him again ... the tour of the facility (chock full of introductions) was particularly nerve wracking. Luckily, the poor guy who had been elected to go save the crazy-chick-sleeping-in-her-car-in-the-parking-lot was no where to be found. Why does it feel like this kind of stuff only happens to me?

Yeesh.

ANYWAY... So far I absolutely love everything about my new position. My supervisor is fantastic, I've shadowed another MT who is a wonderful musician, a lot of fun to be around, and has the sweetest southern accent, I've shadowed a great chaplain, and met some patients who instantly reignited that spark inside me and reminded me how much I truly love working in hospice. I am confident that I am where I am supposed to be... even if I am a bit early.

Everyone thinks it's cute when children do it.
When you get old people just think you're a creep.

BEST.EMAIL.EVER

I am truly not trying to brag or wave my flag or toot my own horn or however the euphamism may go...

BUT!

I recieved the best email of my life this morning and wanted to share. I am so incredibly humbled right now. I am so PUMPED to feel like I actually can make a difference. This patient is the patient I am working with on a case study right now, trying to show that while a client may be declining (this patient has a Parkinson's Diagnosis) music therapy can in fact improve self esteem, depression, and ultimately Quality of Life. This makes me feel like it's WORKING! Aaah! Music therapy R-O-C-K-S.

Anyway... here's the email (name and location has been edited to comply with HIPAA) if you are still reading this far into my rambling:

________________________________________________

Ann-

I made a social work visit to [patient] yesterday at [assisted living facility].  She was in a crabby mood but that’s besides the point.

She kept asking “where is the music lady?” and later started calling you by name!  When I was leaving, she said about 3 times, “make sure ann knows where to find me.”

Just thought you should know what a great job you are doing and what a difference you have apparently made for [patient]! Keep up the good work!

________________________________________________

<3

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Today is mine and Mr. Bean's anniversary. We have been married 2 whole years. And all you professionals out there are probably wondering why in the world I am writing about my saucy love life on my professional blog but there's a reason. And I'm getting to it.

He doesn't always WEAR his glasses and for some reason feels
the need to be clean shaven at times but you get the idea.

I have to give credit to Mr. Bean. This man allowed his crazy bride to start school to become a music therapist a mere 3 weeks before getting married. This man supported the notion that not only could I go to the University of Iowa (with a 2 hour commute), continue to work a full time job, and pull off what was sure to be the wedding of the century. He listened to me stress over seating arrangements, stress over homework, and stress over planning a youth ministry program (that was my former area of employment). He took on the financial burden of a wedding and then said "Sure why not" to the burden of paying for school out of pocket (no loans = yay, no financial aid = boo). He worked multiple jobs to support not only his business, but my dream, and to provide for us. AND THEN! When I wanted to intern at Seasons Hospice, he moved with me and started a new career.

Why? Because he believes in and supports my dreams. He has proofread papers, bounced around session plan ideas, and helped compose songs that assist children in hearing and pronouncing the difference between "p" and "b". He who has been playing the guitar for years, who has more patience in his little toe than I have at all, calmly teaches me music and silently listens as I figure things out. He went to extracurricular lectures with me, got excited when he'd hear my professor on Iowa Public Radio or listen to a podcast talking about music therapy, and listens to be me babble about my days at Seasons. He is genuinely interested in everything I am doing and learning. He pushes me to be the best I can be. And for that I owe him an incredible amount of thanks... and it just so happens that I can't help also giving him all of my heart.

So my dear readers... the question today is:

Who inspires and supports you? Who is accompanying you on your walk to be a great music therapist? There are tons of people in my life who are helping me grow and become the best ME, but today is the day I celebrate marrying my #1 fan. I am so blessed... lucky... undeserving. I am eternally grateful.

Midterms

We interupt this blog for a brief musical interlude. Shaking your hair, air guitar, and all out rock star behavior is allowed and encouraged.

Thank you. You may resume reading this post.

Half way there! Holy COW! Where did the summer go? There are days when I feel like I did back in June... brand new and uncertain. But there are just as many days where I feel like I've been doing this forever. Not "forever" in a bored/burnt out sort of way but rather a confident, self assured professional sort of way. It's hard to believe the growth and change I have undergone in the fleeting three months I've had so far as an intern. It's hard to imagine that in just three more I will be preparing for the board certification exams and looking for jobs. It's sad to think that I might not find a job in hospice, which in all sincerety I have come to love. It's exciting to think of all the other possibilities and populations I could start working with. It's especially exciting to start earning a paycheck again... my husband loves that idea.

It has been three months since I started my internship.As I hit the midterm point of my internship, I am amazed at the growth and change I have undergone. My guitar skills have grown by leaps and bounds. My comfort level with patients has shocked me. My documentation skills have come a long way and I see that crossing over into my every day conversations. When people ask me about music therapy I am able to explain the profession more and more clearly, more concisely, and feel more confident doing so.

Don't get me wrong though, there are times when this internship can be challenging. Of course! It can be emotional, it can be frustrating trying to learn music and refine my music skills, and finding the balance or pacing in a session. I am learning to be more comfortable with other professionals, collaborate with them when working with clients, and communicate my opinions, ideas, and observations. I am working really hard to see set backs and challenges as a great indicator that I am at the half way point and after an initial improvement it is time for even more growth. I am being pushed even further and I know that it is for my good. The challenges are making me a better therapist, and I really appreciate that.

You may now press play for the 5th time again and resume the party.

"Hospice is like a box of chocolates"

I have really come to understand that in hospice, you never know what you're going to get.

I have a client who I just love. He is hilarious. Apparently, he is exceptionally inappropriate with other people who care for him (earning him the title of "dirty old man") but with me he's just downright funny. I ask if he would like some music and he says yes. Then, before I even get the guitar case open he hollers, "Well, come on then!" or "Let's go!" He sits and listens to the music with his eyes closed and responds after a song has completed by saying, "That was beeeeeeautiful" or he'll comment, "That was an oldie but goodie". Sometimes he'll say, "You left me in left field with that one". I'm really not sure how to take that last comment...

On the other hand I see a client who is always in bed, normally asleep, and NEVER responsive. He's a hard one to see because while it's easy just to play some improvised bedside music, its frustrating because it's hard to tell if he even hears it, let alone responds positively.

Last Thursday, I went to go see this client. It was my last stop of the day and the facility is close to home so it's easy to stop by on my way out in the morning or on the way back in the afternoons. I signed into the facility, made my way up to the patient's floor, and found his bed empty. Inside I thought if this guy died and no one told me, I'm going to be frustrated. I ask a nurse passing by where the patient is, and she directs me down to a common area where I have never been before. And there he is! Sitting up in a broda chair. Awake, alert, and oriented x1. WHAT?! I hardly even recognized the man. I introduced myself and he responded! Said a very clear yes to wanting music and talked to me through the entire session. Yes, he was also talking to a few hallucinations, but where did this come from?! He SANG ALONG with a few songs and when I placed my guitar on his lap for vibro-tactile stimulation, he even tried strumming a few times on his own!  I was flabbergasted. We had such a great time together talking about his past and singing songs that I stayed for longer than I have ever spent with him. The time flew by!

I think I floated home... thinking about how different each day is for everyone. You have to go into each session as if this will be the last time you see that patient and do the best for them every time. And honestly, once you think you have someone "all figured out"... you don't. You never know when something will happen from "out in left field".

Yes, hospice is like a box of chocolates... you never know what you're going to get. 

and it's really oh so sweet.