Stories entertain. They also illuminate truths. These stories recount how music brought peace, or joy, or sleep -- all of which are critical to healing. Hear people tell you, in their own voices, the positive impact that high-quality, live music had on their healing. We include stories from staff, patients and our own Muses.

Staff Stories

"I get it! You come here to play for the patients but the staff benefits too. Did you see how we are all busy and noisy when you arrived and now we're all calm, quiet and things are going smoothly. You should come more often!"
Cardiac ward, Kaiser SF
September 2015

"Thank you so much! Everyone who walked in the door was so glad you were here. We really appreciate it!" 

Maternity ward, Kaiser SF
April 2016

"... the calming effect of the music brings peace. Thanks for coming to this ward."

Respiratory therapist
ICU ward, Kaiser SF
May 2016

Patient Stories

"My mom was in distress and we thought she was very close to death. We were so upset. The you came. The nurse said my mother's blood pressure dropped back into the calm zone while you played the harp. I wish you could stay longer.."

Patient's daughter
ICU, Kaiser San Francisco
October 2015

"My dad was finally able to relax enough to sleep to the sounds of your music. Thank you."
Patient's family member
Kaiser San Francisco
July 2015

Muse Stories

"There is a challenge in developing the flexibility needed for this work: each time being ready for a different mood of the room, of the level of stress or relaxation, choosing where to place oneself (literally or figuratively), what kind of music to play at any given moment, trying to figure out how to be present but not in the way, and how to facilitate something that could resemble a healing atmosphere."
Shira Kammen
The white-haired woman in the wheel chair is screaming again. Help me, help me! NO! Her attendant wheels her down the pleasant hallway to the gazebo area where a dozen other elders are quietly sitting around several tables, reading, quietly piecing jigsaw puzzles, napping. One lady is cuddling her plush toy cat. Like many in this facility, the white-haired lady is in the advanced stages of dementia, which, in her case, manifests as intense anxiety.

She played harp as a young woman, her attendant tells me. I scan my mental repertoire list for something she might recognize, and as her attendant begins to wheel the lady away, I begin "Lavender's Blue Dilly-dilly" hoping her child self will remember this happy little tune.

I hear her begin to hum as they go back down the hallway. "You'll be my queen.."
               Patrice Haan