Wednesday, the 11th of July was my very first day of my practicum at Sarasota Memorial Hospital. It felt like it took years to get things going, but when I actually look at time building up to this day, it really hasn’t been that long. Working as a full-time musician with the Orchestra prolonged the length of
the course work but when it came down to setting up the practicum, it took 9 months from seed to sapling – the length of time it takes for a mother to ‘make a baby.’ I kind of like that number and I think its auspicious as it represents something that I hope will continue to grow and flourish.
The staff has been eager to make things work for my practicum so while I sat on my hands they were busy behind the scenes. For instance, for the first 20 minutes of first day, I had an escort of 4 staff members making sure that I knew where I was going, to answer any questions, to cheer me on and to make sure I didn’t drop anything. It was incredibly generous, welcoming…and just a wee bit nerve wracking.
The floor manager had already signed up five patients before I had even picked up my badge from the Volunteers Office. I was not expecting this. That’s when I understood how much cultivating had been going on during my 2 months of nail-baiting: I was ashamed of my impatience. The Volunteers Office had really come through on this.
For my first session my escort and the floor staff wanted to see what what a session was like so there was a bit of a crowd outside the door. As I set myself up to begin playing I felt the weight of the effort to create an integrative medicine program riding on my sshoulders. I had to dig deep inside and repeat a ‘patient-first’ mantra in my chattering monkey mind. Even though there was an “audience” outside of the room, I took a deep breath and focused in on the patient in the room.
…and exhale…
My first day on-the-job was three hours long. 5 patients in 3 hours – I thought that was pretty damn good. Initially, the staff thought I was restricted by the Volunteer Program schedule of 1 hour, but as I explained about the actual practicum hours the majority of escort team relaxed and went about their normal routine. The floor manager would come check in to make sure I knew where I needed to go next and who the nurses thought would benefit the most. I could have played for more patients who had expressed interest after hearing me in the hallways, but I was exhausted from the excitement of the first day… or so I thought.
When I came home, I cleaned up and settled in with a cup of hot tea and started my patient logs… just five, no bigee, I thought. Holy crap… my first day was only halfway through. While on the one hand the logs have a tedious aspect to them they also cracked open my tunneled mind that had been so focused on in-the-moment-with-the-patient observations. Now came the time to reflect beyond the symptoms, assessments and results. The patient logs were now mirroring the whole picture — the holistic picture.
Because I had an escort with me that was initially worried about my time, I did not want to be ungrateful and say ‘hey, I need to center, acknowledge and knock!’ so I was not deliberate in following the steps of Unitative Listening… or so I thought. As I started to write about my third patient and how things had evolved in the session – where I started and where we ended, I realized the patient had guided me to where they really were and where they needed to be. In the moment, I thought I misread the patient when I started that session, so when I saw my next patient I told myself to take the time to feel where the patient is before I start to play.
Next log I realized a pattern was happening even though it didn’t literally fit the textbook definition. There was this kind of weird thing happening in the sessions that screamed Unitative Listening. It was about sensing the mood/energy of the room; the people visiting them; the staff that go in and go out. When I walked into the room of my last patient of the day, I let myself just read the room. It was the only shared room I had been to so far and it was curtained off from the neighboring patient. There was a lot of activity on the other side – cellphones constantly ringing, loud talking, etc. Yet, despite that aural chaos, my patient’s immediate space felt really good. The patient was being affectionately cared by their visitors and they spoke gently to each other. I didn’t consciously make a decision at the time, but when I worked on that particular log, I understood that I chose to make the music support what was already in the room – to enhance it so it could keep going on for however long it needed to go.
I won’t say that I love filling out patient logs, but at the same time, it is rewarding and illuminating in its own way. This first round of logs helped me see the lessons the patients were giving me during those sessions. A patient might communicate one thing with their words, but once the music begins, they begin to say something more authentic without words. Brave fronts dissolve and reveal the parts that want to be healed or let go.
My initial sense is that 5 patients a day might be my limit for the time being. My exhaustion from the hospital time was not only the excitement of it being my first time, but from the intensity of patient-time. Being fluid and open to what is happening in the room requires a lot of focus – something that is challenging to me even on a good day. Then there are the logs that also require focus because they will reflect what I need to work on/out, and best of all, the lessons of the patients.
