From music to medicine

Carl Morris finds out why Amanda Jones gave up her singing career to become a doctor

It's a tough course. You need an awful lot of determination to succeed. Competition for places is intense. Once you are on the course the workload is excessive and challenging, both intellectually and emotionally. Because of the practical nature of the job, you also need to practise basic technique over and over and over.

Does any of this sound familiar? I am describing what it was like for Amanda Jones, now a first year medical student, during her music degree at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama. Mature student entry to medical school is increasing. A science background is no longer essential. These days we come in all flavours, with previous lives in business, management, literature, fine art, engineering--the list goes on. Not many can claim, though, to have worked as a professional opera singer or to have sung on and written scripts for Classic FM.

Amanda did actually apply to do medicine straight from school and had several places on offer. However, when she found out that her application to the music academy had been accepted, there was no hesitation at all. "Music was my passion. I just thought 'Hooray! I'm going to be an opera singer.'"

We medics like to think that we hold a monopoly on difficult courses, but Amanda explained how much harder her first degree was. School days were from 9.00 am till 9.00 pm, Monday to Saturday, including up to five hours' practice. On top of that, there were regular concert performances. As well as engaging with the music emotionally, and learning the physical techniques, there were also the intellectual demands of interpretation and learning the history and theory of music. Language requirements included French, Spanish, Latin, Italian, and German. Amanda even had to perform one oratorio in Russian.

Big drop out among singers
And though we all worry about failure and not getting through, the fact is that the vast majority of medical students go on to qualify as doctors. Whereas by the time that Amanda had finished her four year honours course more than half the singers had fallen by the wayside.

In fact, one of the reasons Amanda says she chose to leave the world of music was its tough, competitive nature. She agrees that medicine has this reputation, but the reality is nowhere near as intense as the world of professional classical music.

After graduation, by which time she was already earning well as a performer and lecturer at the academy, Amanda decided to take a PhD in music at Oxford. It was there that she came into contact with people studying subjects other than music for the first time. Most of her friends there were medical students. She found herself fascinated and enthralled with their world. "I probably spent more time reading their books than they did," she admitted. She helped them to revise, often playing the role of pretend patient for them to practise on.

Growing disillusioned with the solitary world of academic research, in her second year she started working as an auxiliary nurse. Amanda found that not only was it enormously enjoyable but she was also good at it.

It was still a huge decision to turn her back on a successful and lucrative lifestyle and subject herself to five more years of student poverty. She had been financially independent since the age of 18, funding herself through university. Now, after her PhD and one year through her MB BS, she is already nearly £10000 in debt.

Her family opposed the decision
She admits to feeling "terrified" when she finally decided to take the plunge and apply to train as a doctor. It did not help that her family was against her decision. They were unhappy that she was turning her back on a comfortable life. Fortunately, friends and colleagues were very supportive. "They could see the way I lit up when I talked about it," she says. At times, Amanda speaks about medicine with the passion of a religious convert.

She remains convinced that this is the best decision of her life. There are constant financial pressures and she has had to get used to being 10 years older than most of her new colleagues, as well as having to make the transition from independent researcher to the relatively "spoon fed" preclinical curriculum.

At the same time she is continuing to sing professionally. Most recently, Amanda appeared in the British premiere of the newly discovered Vivaldi opera "Arsilda", and was interviewed for BBC1. That certainly beats pulling pints in the students' union, or any of the other more traditional ways that students earn extra cash.

I ask what she thinks about the role of music in healing. There are regular musical performances in new hospitals, such as the innovative Chelsea and Westminster Hospital in London. And there is a renewed interest in the value of singing both for its aerobic and its emotional benefits--enthusiasts include Professor John Cox, president of the Royal College of Psychiatrists.

Amanda tells me how severely disabled clients at one of the homes she works in regularly ask her to sing and play the piano for them. At the very least, people definitely enjoy the experience as they always ask for more. She also says that music has been important in helping her through her own periods of depression in the past. "I have first hand experience of the healing qualities of music."

Medicine and music are not a million miles apart. Both require a marrying of psychology with physiology, intellect with emotion. "This was my point in interviews" she smiles, "communication ability and commitment: they are the same key elements you need to succeed, whether it's a career in music, or in medicine."

Carl Morris, fourth year medical student, University of Newcastle
Email: c.j.morris@newcastle.ac.uk


studentBMJ 2001;09:305-356 September ISSN 0966-6494