The field staff and family of Mr. Williams (name changed to protect privacy) are not sure how much he can hear. Mr. Williams has Alzheimer’s disease. Some days, he just can’t get settled- he calls out, fidgets, and attempts to do things he no longer can do. Other days, he can calmly watch television for an hour or so. He is unable to communicate clearly most of the time, and when he does get words out, they often don’t make any sense.
When I first went to visit for a music therapy session, Mr. Williams was having a bad day. His daughter and I weren’t sure if he could hear the music at all, and I was unable to distract him from his agitation with my usual tools of guitar, percussion instruments and singing. His daughter told me that her dad used to sing all the time, but hadn’t done so in a very long time. She missed hearing his voice, and was understandably stressed at seeing her dad decline in the past months and years.
The second time I visited, Mr. Williams was having a good day. Although he never spoke, he held several percussion instruments and watched me as I played and sang to him. Not knowing how much he could hear, I set my guitar so that it rested on his chair, knowing that the vibrations would reach him in a different place than the sound waves. His wife pointed to words as I sang Amazing Grace, and I could see that he was following each word. Although I could tell he was interested in the instruments he held, and watched me as I sang and played the guitar, I still wasn’t sure how much of the music got through. I planned to visit again – if for no other reason, to bring some new instruments for him to touch and explore, and more lyrics for him to follow.
Two days after that visit, I got an excited text from Mr. William’s nurse. She told me that when she went to see him, he spoke to her. His word was hard to understand, but with his wife’s help, they understood him to be asking the nurse, “Guitar?” He wanted to know if she’d brought a guitar to play for him! The music had gotten through! Not only that- his wife said that she’d heard him humming the day after his music therapy session. And, realizing that Mr. Williams could still comprehend written word, Mrs. Williams had tried asking a simple question by writing it down. “French toast or eggs?” she wrote on a piece of paper. After studying the page for a minute or two he spoke. “Toast.”
Sometimes in a session, I can’t tell how much my music gets through to patients that are unable to communicate. It’s people like Mr. and Mrs. Williams that remind me that music has a power to get through to even the most hidden places- something I know and have always known, but it’s nice to have a concrete reminder every once in a while! And I look forward to hearing Mr. Williams hum the next time I visit with him.