While there's moonlight and music

Being a musical sort of a being and finding myself in a profession that encourages the abandonment of all extracurricular activities on entering medical school, I have discovered myself singing, humming, air guitaring, and/or drum soloing at work. Sometimes I'm aware of it and at other times fellow staff threaten to section me.

White Stripes and White Blood Cells

When in good form I tend to start the day with Chelsea Morning by Joni Mitchell or a Penguin Café Orchestra classic. If in foul form at the indignity of being awake, or when dealing with an awkward patient this can quickly morph into Amelia by Joni, a Mark Lanegan lament, or, at worst, Seasons in the Abyss by Slayer (complete with "diabolicus in musica" chords and percussive noises between clenched teeth). One nice patient later and I can then flip back into altogether more easy listening Horslips, the White Stripes, or dare I say it Destiny's Child.

"Doctor, I have one more question....."-"Doctor, tell me what you think about this.......etc, etc." At some stage in the day the MMC (Modernising Medical Careers) debacle will raise its head, the storm clouds will move in, and I will uncontrollably shift into Rage Against The Machine mode and the words "the system is set-you'll never change it with a ballot poll" will echo in my head for a few hours.

I am at times powerless over what will infect my ears next. One evening having seen a bit of the news on Iraq, or maybe it was the Agent Orange the cleaning staff use, I was assaulted by Billy Joel and his Goodnight Saigon-I mean the whole thing, helicopters and all-over and over until the end of my shift. On nights I invariably revert to One by One by the Foo Fighters ("Done, done, and I'm on to the next one.......") and long days pass more smoothly with some Planxty, Imogen Heap, or Pearl Jam.

At the end of the day though, manual over-ride kicks in and I walk out the door with those epic opening chords to Freebird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. By the time I reach the car I've muddled my way through the verses, the guitars are cranked to 11 and the sheer sonic bliss of that guitar solo guides me home.

Alan Laverty, senior house officer in emergency medicine, Mater Infirmorum Hospital, Belfast
Email: alanlaverty@doctors.org.uk

Competing interests: None declared.