So, as part of the curriculum coursework, one of our assignments was to do a creative piece – it could be a poem, an imaginative fictional story, a musical composition, or even an interpretive dance. For those who feel strangers to their right hemisphere of the brain, a long essay is another option (but bumps up the minimum word count requirement). This element, and this particular assignment, was genuinely one of the reasons I chose to study here in the University of Bristol. Honestly, the amount of emphasis put on the human basis of healthcare is incredible – we’re even going to have a 30 minute session next week to do mindfulness meditation (all educational!). So, without going into details, I present my original piano composition, “It’s Worth It”, penned about a courageous patient I met on home visit. It would not be a lie to say I wrote this in three days, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been tinkling around with motifs for a couple of months.
On Day 1, I fooled around for 2 hours on a piano with a missing G key and both pedals broken off so I had to jam the tip of my shoe into the hole to sustain, and came up with a loose framework for my composition.
On Day 2, I was back in the alternative music room, with an upright acoustic piano that reverberates too loudly and has a pedal that is squeaky like no other. Really. It was bad. And there was an uprising rock band next door (walls are not soundproof) who were shredding their souls out. But I figured out more embellishments and got more comfortable with what vision I had in mind. The pressure of having to upload the assignment in a few days made metaphorical beads of sweat trickle down my temples.
Finally, on Day 3, I was talking to a friend who lived in CHH (where I had moved out from), and asked randomly about the baby grand piano tucked away in there. “Come during dinner-time, so no one will be there,” she said. I had booked the piano room in the Bristol SU for the following night, but thought, hey, why would I miss out on an opportunity to play a beautiful piano? It was a devastatingly windy night, and I charged through, face numb and leaning so far forward I would have fallen if the wind had not been that strong. Honestly. My contact lenses were so dry I swear they were clinging onto my cornea for dear life. I reach CHH, and go in the piano room – I didn’t think I would record, but I ended up doing so. Because, I realized, the longer I think about it, the further away I am from the initial emotions I felt about this wonderful patient I was inspired by. So, with mistakes and lack of any technique from my classically-trained years, I produced the recording you hear below. Some of it is improv, and I probably won’t ever play it like that again. Raw and real.
Here is a quote from the patient that beautifully sums up the meaning of the song: “Because I’ve enjoyed living life so much already, I want to continue. I quite like life. Of course, you don’t want to get old, and there are some things in life you won’t like. You got no choice in these things. But it’s worth it, don’t you think?”
And I couldn’t agree more.
EDIT: So, my GP nominated me for the Year 1 GP Placement Prize for this reflective piece and another essay I did on a rape consultation. That in itself was something I personally was incredibly shocked by and celebrated with chocolates, but I recently received an email saying 19 people were nominated, 10 people were shortlisted and they had selected the top 3…and I received first prize! I’m just so very happy the message of courage the patient gave to me came across in my work. Gah.
*The patient has given permission for use of his words.