Wild Horses...
It's been awhile since my last post, and I have really found my "groove" as a hospital music therapist. That being said, I am currently in the oh-so-familiar struggle that music therapists face: getting cut.
It's frustrating to me that my profession is not thought of as necessary...but rather as a bonus and a privilege to patients. If only the higher ups could see a session I have with my patients...the joy that a familiar song brings to their exhausted eyes...the tears that stream down their face as they are finally being addressed as a WHOLE person and not just their ailment...the sobs from family members having one last spiritual song with a loved one before they pass...the prayer...the laughter...the smiles...the gratitude...my last story about "Bob". I don't want to let this go.
For months now I have been preparing to defend myself, as if going to court and facing a jury. The only problem is that I have NO. IDEA. to whom I should defend myself. So today I am making a list of employees that I know will support me as a professional advocating for this valid position. I am sending emails to people I have met who may know more important administrative people than I do. I am telling staff with my own exhausted eyes that I am not done fighting and that I need their help too.
All the while I am treating my patients as if nothing is wrong...allowing the music I'm sharing with them to also speak to me. I'm playing soothing and therapeutic music for employees during prayer hours in the chapel. I'm learning new music that will bring people joy. And really deep down I'm afraid and tired of defending my trade. I don't administer medication, perform surgery, or diagnose.
But I'm important too.
(Random somber song to go with my somber mood.)
It's frustrating to me that my profession is not thought of as necessary...but rather as a bonus and a privilege to patients. If only the higher ups could see a session I have with my patients...the joy that a familiar song brings to their exhausted eyes...the tears that stream down their face as they are finally being addressed as a WHOLE person and not just their ailment...the sobs from family members having one last spiritual song with a loved one before they pass...the prayer...the laughter...the smiles...the gratitude...my last story about "Bob". I don't want to let this go.
For months now I have been preparing to defend myself, as if going to court and facing a jury. The only problem is that I have NO. IDEA. to whom I should defend myself. So today I am making a list of employees that I know will support me as a professional advocating for this valid position. I am sending emails to people I have met who may know more important administrative people than I do. I am telling staff with my own exhausted eyes that I am not done fighting and that I need their help too.
All the while I am treating my patients as if nothing is wrong...allowing the music I'm sharing with them to also speak to me. I'm playing soothing and therapeutic music for employees during prayer hours in the chapel. I'm learning new music that will bring people joy. And really deep down I'm afraid and tired of defending my trade. I don't administer medication, perform surgery, or diagnose.
But I'm important too.
(Random somber song to go with my somber mood.)
"We'll ride them some day..."
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