It's been a while since I last posted but Monday's visit produced a mixed bag of stories, some of which I just have to tell you about. For those unfamiliar with my role, I visit a London hospital every week and venture onto two wards dealing with elderly and dementia patients. I am designated a Ward Musician and play musical and song requests, downloaded from the Spotify App and relayed from a Bluetooth speaker.
I won't use real names in these accounts but would like to share some of the encounters, not all of which bore fruit . I took two huge risks last week; one paid off and one didn't. Lets start with the one that didn't. The patient was an elderly lady, a former concert pianist, but now living with dementia and clearly troubled, not knowing where she was. She was lying in bed and screaming out "get me out of here." In all the circumstances I should have avoided her. However I took a chance and asked her if she'd like to me play Chopin. But she said "No". And here I made an error of judgment for I decided to play Chopin anyway since it might have calmed her down. A good piece to play is Nocturne No. 2 in E flat major. And so I began to play and the lovely piano notes rang out around the bedside. For a little while she seemed to enjoy this and then asked "Is that my piano?" I answered "Yes," wrongly thinking that might please her! Yeah - how wrong I was. She came back at me, "What the hell are you doing playing my piano?" I squirmed back "It's a recording." But the damage was done, "I've never given you permission to play my piano." I faded the music out whilst walking backwards away from her. She became calm again, but fearing she would tell a nurse that her piano had been stolen, I felt obligated to explain what had happened to a nurse, apologising for any disturbance I may have caused!
By way of contrast, the next risk paid off. Another agitated elderly lady, lying on her side in her nightie, and propped up by an elbow. None of us could understand what she was shouting about for she was from Uzbekistan in Central Asia. A trainee nurse had her son's phone number and rang him in order to pass the phone to his mother, hopefully to find out what the lady's needs were. Some words were spoken to her by her son but she was still agitated.
I stood at the end of her bed and put my finger to my lips to signal "Ssh!" I also held both my arms out in front of me with my hands flat out, but completely still. This seemed to attract her attention for she became quieter and was gazing at my posture. And then instinctively I took the risk and sat right next to her in the bedside chair, and gazed into her face.
They say eye contact is good but this was pushing my luck. The lady began speaking to me in Uzbekistan whilst I listened intently, going through a range of facial gestures of agreement, sympathy and surprise. At one point the lady laughed. I held her hand whilst she continued talking to me, so relaxed and happy. This was a 10-12 minutes conversation. She talking and me making responsive gestures. Two nurses looked on and were astonished, as if I had magical powers. I don't think so. But what I did do was to show the lady I cared, and give her attention and time to talk to a listening face.
It was only afterwards that I remembered I had a faux fur hat in my bag and I could have worn that to give the impression I had come down from the mountain. But maybe that would have been a risk too far!
I think I will do a Part 2 for there were 3 or 4 more patients to mention, one of whom was a butler for the royal family. He told me "The King knows I'm here." He was 86 years old.
