Music Therapy: Caring for the Caregiver

Being in the hospital is hard. Besides not feeling well, there’s the uncertainty of outcomes to deal with, as well as the possibility of life-threatening disease. While being in the hospital takes a toll on the physical self, it also challenges the emotional self.

Being a caregiver—a family member, friend, or caretaker—of someone in the hospital is also hard. Beyond the stress and uncertainty of what comes next, caretakers have to "put on a good face" for the patient and hold it all together. Meanwhile, they have to continue to work, take care of others in the family, keep people posted, and see after the patients’ affairs while they are compromised. And that can take an emotional toll. While everyone is taking care of the patient (as they should), who is helping the caregiver?

Music therapy

Source: Wachiwit / Shutterstock

Music therapy, in a hospital setting, is for everyone. It’s for the patient. It’s for the caregivers. It’s even for the staff. When I’m working with a patient, and caregivers are present, the session is also (and sometimes even more so) for them. For the caregiver, music therapy can provide comfort, space for reflection, and an outlet for tension release.

Here is what I see time after time. I walk into a room. I meet the patient, as well as whoever is with them (spouse, child, parent, sibling, friend), and the caregiver is "putting on a good face." I assess the situation and bring in some appropriate music. Then, in a matter of seconds, the caregiver becomes unexpectedly emotional. It’s like turning on a switch. The music brings out emotion. It makes sense though. Music basically is emotion. We feel emotions when listening to music. And when things are heightened, like having a loved one in the hospital, emotion is exacerbated. Caregivers are holding everything in, and the music prompts a release. It happens all… the… time… They are often surprised by the unexpected outlet. And I always say, “It’s okay. It’s a good thing. This must be hard for you, and you need to release some of that tension.” If I had a nickel for every time this happens…

Music can give a reprieve… a moment to breathe

He’s in his 70s and in the ICU. An hour prior, after conferring with the medical team, his family made the tough decision to take him off life support. It was time to let go. When I walked into the room, he was non-respondent. His breathing was shallow and labored, but he seemed mainly comfortable. His wife, and other family members, were holding vigil. Basically, waiting… I introduced myself and told them that the doctor asked me to visit as we thought some music would be comforting during this time. His wife said, “That sounds lovely. He loves music.” She told me that he loves classical and jazz, and I offered some "soundscape" in those styles on the guitar. As the music was introduced, the patient remained at his baseline. However, I mostly focused on the others, trying to sense their needs in the moment. His wife, sitting on one side of the bed, rested her head back and closed her eyes. The woman on the other side of the bed put her phone away and took his hand. The two young gentlemen sitting to the side seemed to be using the music for reflection. I incorporated, in the music, both what I thought they felt, and what they needed.

After about 25 minutes I brought the music to a close. We sat in silence for a few moments. Then his wife looked at me and said, “Thank you. That was beautiful. I needed that. I just needed to take a break for a bit… a moment to breathe. Thank you.”

Music is the great connector

She’s in her 80s and on "in-patient hospice." She’s close to the end. She looked frail in the bed, with her eyes closed, but she was comfortable. Her daughter, who was sitting to the side, greeted me warmly, and then introduced me to her son (the patient’s grandson) and his girlfriend, who were sitting on the other side of the room. They were holding vigil. Basically waiting… When I told them why I was there, they were welcoming of some music, and the daughter told me that her son (the grandson) was a musician. I sat and gave some "soothing soundscape" on the guitar. I eventually worked my way toward some structured songs and, without thinking about it, landed on a "lullaby" version of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow."

Then it happened…

Mid-way through the first verse, the grandson got up from his chair, walked over to the bed, and took the patient’s hand. Then he started singing along in beautiful harmony. Then his mother got up, walked over to the bed and took her other hand. She joined in singing. Finally, his girlfriend walked over to the bed and added her beautiful voice to the mix. I got chills. The multi-part harmony that was organically produced, in the moment, was absolutely beautiful.

Then it happened…

Suddenly… the patient, who had been non-respondent, opened her eyes, looked right at her grandson, and smiled. (Have I mentioned chills?) As the song concluded, there was not a dry eye in the room. (Including mine.) It was such a profoundly beautiful moment that I will never forget. So organic. So powerful. And I will guess that they will never forget it either. This will be their last memory with their beloved mother/grandmother. Forever. And what a way to conclude your time on this earth, by being sung too by those whom you love the most.

What other entity in the hospital also addresses the needs of caregivers like music therapy?

Music can truly change a surrounding. Especially in a high stress environment such as an in-patient hospital setting. Music is an element that is simultaneously beneficial for the patient, the family, the caregiver, and the staff. Music is healing in many ways. Music makes a difference. And music therapy is for everyone.