Music or medicine? This was the question I found myself wrestling with when applying to university. Music lights me up, sets me on fire, and keeps me going. But ultimately, I chose medicine. Why?
Something my grandfather told me once really stuck with me: turning passion into duty can drain the joy from it. What you have to do can stop being what you want to do, and the pressure of 'must' can erode the pleasure of 'want'.
I feared that my joy in writing music would become a chore if I had to compose to deadlines and rely on it for income. Of course, this isn't true for everyone - it's a deeply personal matter - but I believed the weight of obligation would eventually dull the joy music brings me if I made it my career.
Twelve years later, I'm glad I listened to that instinct. Music remains my outlet and my joy - a way to process and escape the inevitable stresses of life as a doctor.
Opening movements
I've played the piano since before I can remember. My grandfather - a bit of a musical genius - sat me at a piano before I could even walk or talk. By the age of 15, I was composing for piano and vocals, and even won some competitions at school and beyond.
At medical school in Manchester, I began to bring my love of music into healthcare. I undertook an intercalated master's degree in Medical Humanities - a wonderful, interdisciplinary field that explores medicine through the lens of arts, humanities, and social sciences, and considers the human experience of health, illness and care.
If, as a medic, you have an interest in the arts or humanities, I would highly recommend this course if you are considering an intercalated degree. It provided me with the opportunity to combine my passions in a way I would not have otherwise had the time, resources or support to do so.
I shaped my MSc around music, researching its benefits for health and wellbeing, and taking placements that brought music into hospitals and paediatric wards.
My project culminated in composing an album of music for waiting rooms - spaces that are often heavy with anxiety. That work ignited my passion for writing calming piano music to create peace and space.
Rhythm and research
So what impact does music have on us as humans? Music is woven into culture and, evidence suggests, has been since the very beginning of recorded human history. It has a unique power; from a purely auditory stimulus it can evoke deep emotion, ranging from euphoria to relaxation, joy to sadness, fear to comfort.
Neuroimaging studies have provided evidence that music stimulates activity in the limbic and paralimbic cerebral structures, the very areas of the brain responsible for emotion. The emotions elicited are dependent on the characteristics and style of the music, from tempo to pitch, rhythm to melody, tonality to texture.
Research has also shown the ability of music to affect our bodily functions and systems involved in the stress response, including endocrine, autonomic and cognitive domains.
Think about watching a horror film without the soundtrack. Would you still feel suspense or fear? Or a romantic scene without music - would you feel the same excitement, tenderness or warmth? Possibly, but likely not to the same degree. Our auditory experiences profoundly shape our emotional world.
In my own research, I trialled contrasting styles of music with differing instruments, rhythms, speeds, and tonalities. I found that the most effective in reducing anxiety was slow, melodic piano music - with enough rhythm to create direction and predictability, and higher-pitched melodies that encouraged relaxation.
When I tested this in waiting rooms, 90% of patients said it helped them feel more at ease and supported introducing music into these spaces.
I also played live in hospitals - for both staff and patients - often before or after shifts. This unexpectedly caught the attention of ITV and BBC local news while I was working in the South-West of England. Staff described hearing piano music drifting down hospital corridors as a "breath of fresh air."
Music as medicine
To medical students, I'd say this: don't lose your passions. Reignite them - they're what keep you going in the long run. Find what lights you up, what excites you, and hold onto that tightly. A life in medicine can make it hard to sustain hobbies, but finding a moment to prioritise what you enjoy is vital.
I personally decided to go less-than-full-time (LTFT) to allow me the time and headspace to not only recover from shift-work, but also time to rediscover the things that I enjoy, things that bring me life.
Burnout in medical students and doctors is common, but it shouldn't be accepted as inevitable. Our own health and wellbeing is as important as patients'. Training LTFT won't suit everyone, but if you're considering it, I encourage you to try. You can always increase your hours again. For me, the pay cut was worth it for the space it gave me to live fully.
In summary, I would encourage you to find time to rediscover you in your hobbies and interests outside of your studies and work. Medicine is a marathon, not a sprint. You need energy boosts along the way, moments where your mind can switch off and find renewal.
Don't underestimate music's power in this. Whether you play an instrument or simply listen, notice how it shifts your mood and energy. The effect can be profound.
This page was correct at publication on 30/10/2025. Any guidance is intended as general guidance for members only. If you are a member and need specific advice relating to your own circumstances, please contact one of our advisers.
by Dr Jess Duckworth
Dr Jess Duckworth is a registrar in CSRH (community sexual and reproductive health), who is passionate about encouraging medical students and doctors to continue pursuing their hobbies and passions outside of the medical world. She is a composer, pianist, and singer, and has a master's degree researching the benefits music can have on health and wellbeing. You can find her relaxing piano music on all streaming services, including Spotify and Apple Music.