Thurs 26th OCT
THURS 26TH OCT
Last night I dreamt that I was walking with my frame for the first time. I hope the saying “dreams don’t come true” is right! It was OT Week but I’d been asked to speak at a Music Therapy ‘patient perspective’ session. A sign advertising this session, with a photograph of a girl walking with a brick filled frame with the music therapist playing the guitar behind her, was plastered all over Talbot. The girl walking with a frame and bag of bricks was ‘moi’. It was not a bad dream. There were four speakers. I was first. I hadn’t prepared. I had no excuse. My justification was that experiencing all that I had was enough. I guess my rationale was also that you couldn’t always prepare for what’s ahead. Featuring in this video, I previewed it before it was played to strangers. Gulp. That girl who was so bad was me. I swallowed the tears. Speaking, walking and singing were definitely NOT my strengths. This was a talk about ‘how music therapy had helped me’! Maybe showing the audience how badly I sung and walked would make my speaking appear good? I requested a seat and for the video to be played after my talk. I could stand, however, I wanted to concentrate on what I was saying- not my balance. Having double vision meant that although my audience was twice as big, it was a sea of ‘blur’. I had ten minutes to relay my story. I told them briefly about my background. I was very honest, mentioned that I’d never worked in facilities that had music therapists. Initially I saw it as a ‘time filler’ and was willing to try anything that would help. Desperate I had sung. However, for me this therapy was helpful for helping me to express my ‘trapped emotions’. The first lyric I’d sung was ‘I’d like a cup of coffee’. Pre op I’d been a coffee addict, at that time it was banned – I was only to have thickened fluids. The therapist carefully had selected songs (that at the time I liked) “learned to breathe again… this ugliness you see” were some of the lyrics I really identified with. Many times I would let my therapist sing and just cry. Music for me was a way of expressing myself and enabled me to still hide behind the words. I even wrote a few songs. They soon resorted to music as there was hope that it may improve my gait (walking). It apparently provided me with ‘rhythm’. Soon we combined my physio and music sessions, my music therapist following slowly behind playing her guitar as my physio walked with me. I had ‘marching cds’ to give me that rhythm. I bought an ipod and listened to music as I did my daily laps of the ward. It did help. Whether it provided me with a distraction from the frustrations or helped my damaged brain to relearn via a different pathway. Towards the end of my admission, I had done relaxation in music. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, I often would fall asleep in those sessions. Although I initially had seen music therapy as a ‘time filler’, they helped me breathe, express myself, move better, and relax. Unfortunately, it didn’t fix my tone-deaf singing style. Listening to the three other speakers was remuneration for me. A blind lady, a car accident victim (who was now a quadriplegic), and a man who suffered ‘temporary quadriplegia’ after acquiring a virus. All three people had gone through huge losses. Sometimes you need these reminders that you’re not alone. I was given 40 coloured pencils as a thank you. Perhaps it was their subtle message that I should take up drawing. Music was not my thing.
Last night I dreamt that I was walking with my frame for the first time. I hope the saying “dreams don’t come true” is right! It was OT Week but I’d been asked to speak at a Music Therapy ‘patient perspective’ session. A sign advertising this session, with a photograph of a girl walking with a brick filled frame with the music therapist playing the guitar behind her, was plastered all over Talbot. The girl walking with a frame and bag of bricks was ‘moi’. It was not a bad dream. There were four speakers. I was first. I hadn’t prepared. I had no excuse. My justification was that experiencing all that I had was enough. I guess my rationale was also that you couldn’t always prepare for what’s ahead. Featuring in this video, I previewed it before it was played to strangers. Gulp. That girl who was so bad was me. I swallowed the tears. Speaking, walking and singing were definitely NOT my strengths. This was a talk about ‘how music therapy had helped me’! Maybe showing the audience how badly I sung and walked would make my speaking appear good? I requested a seat and for the video to be played after my talk. I could stand, however, I wanted to concentrate on what I was saying- not my balance. Having double vision meant that although my audience was twice as big, it was a sea of ‘blur’. I had ten minutes to relay my story. I told them briefly about my background. I was very honest, mentioned that I’d never worked in facilities that had music therapists. Initially I saw it as a ‘time filler’ and was willing to try anything that would help. Desperate I had sung. However, for me this therapy was helpful for helping me to express my ‘trapped emotions’. The first lyric I’d sung was ‘I’d like a cup of coffee’. Pre op I’d been a coffee addict, at that time it was banned – I was only to have thickened fluids. The therapist carefully had selected songs (that at the time I liked) “learned to breathe again… this ugliness you see” were some of the lyrics I really identified with. Many times I would let my therapist sing and just cry. Music for me was a way of expressing myself and enabled me to still hide behind the words. I even wrote a few songs. They soon resorted to music as there was hope that it may improve my gait (walking). It apparently provided me with ‘rhythm’. Soon we combined my physio and music sessions, my music therapist following slowly behind playing her guitar as my physio walked with me. I had ‘marching cds’ to give me that rhythm. I bought an ipod and listened to music as I did my daily laps of the ward. It did help. Whether it provided me with a distraction from the frustrations or helped my damaged brain to relearn via a different pathway. Towards the end of my admission, I had done relaxation in music. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, I often would fall asleep in those sessions. Although I initially had seen music therapy as a ‘time filler’, they helped me breathe, express myself, move better, and relax. Unfortunately, it didn’t fix my tone-deaf singing style. Listening to the three other speakers was remuneration for me. A blind lady, a car accident victim (who was now a quadriplegic), and a man who suffered ‘temporary quadriplegia’ after acquiring a virus. All three people had gone through huge losses. Sometimes you need these reminders that you’re not alone. I was given 40 coloured pencils as a thank you. Perhaps it was their subtle message that I should take up drawing. Music was not my thing.
Posted by in 14:49:33
Em- to stand in the spotlight and share your experience (and tone-deafness) with all there is incredible. I wish I’d been there in that crowd. Even to see you on the banners. Would have been so proud. You got 40 coloured pencils- one for every life you probably changed in all the time you stood there. You need to be no Kylie to sing your story to the world. Keep on singing…
I’ll never be a kylie, but I hope it did help some people, even if it encouraged tone-deaf people like’moi’ to sing. They say making yourself look so bad and vulnerable can only make others feel good!!!!!
Em I find this account of yours utterly rivetting and it should be sent to music therapists to encourage them in their efforts. You are so honest and I feel I’m there with you as you start the process almost “blocked” and then let the therapy do what it is meant to do despite your “perceived” lack of talent. This will help a lot of people. It helped me to see that therapies of all kinds have such important roles to play. love Mum
Em I find this account of yours utterly rivetting and it should be sent to music therapists to encourage them in their efforts. You are so honest and I feel I’m there with you as you start the process almost “blocked” and then let the therapy do what it is meant to do despite your “perceived” lack of talent. This will help a lot of people. It helped me to see that therapies of all kinds have such important roles to play. love Mum
Em, this is truely beautiful. Your an amazing writer, and i don’t know many people who can put something accross so beautifully. I feel the same way about music - in that it helped, and i never understood what it was for - but i like that you found purpose in it (for me, it was ego, for you it was that oh-much-more task of breathing control!
)
But I also agree, that it’s amazing to listen to others, like the other three speakers, it’s calming to know that there are others out there, and that you aren’t alone.
Thanks for the beautiful account of important therapy.
Your blog is impressive,it is always in my mind after i read it.
Such as the Handan Bitan, leisurely scent, reading to the heart of God Jing-ping