My creative piece is inspired by a patient I met while on my hospital placement, who was on end-of-life care. I only spent a few moments with this patient throughout the shift; serving him meals and helping him wash and dress in the morning. It was during these moments that I found myself surprised at the apparent loss of identity that came from his hospitalisation.

He was lying down motionless but awake, a small syringe pump at the foot of the bed, steadily infusing a mix of a powerful opioid and sedative. Around him were no relatives or even photos of loved ones and beside a few clothes he had no possessions of his own, and only stirred to eat the same generic food as the rest of the ward. I spoke to him briefly, asking a few questions, but he largely remained silent and any responses he could give seemed taxing; requiring all his strength and focus that remained.

I wondered if, in this sedated state, he was able to reflect on the life he had lived and appreciate all that had happened in it, or whether any meaningful thoughts were just out of reach. Although I had heard many patients reduced to bed numbers during handovers from the night staff, or referred to only by the conditions which brought them to hospital, there was something about the loss of self at such an important time in someone’s life which struck me.

Over the next few days, I found myself reflecting on what I had seen and wondered whether it would be best to spend your last days with a great awareness of yourself and the life you had lived (albeit in pain and distress). Or to be comfortably unaware of the live you’d lived and live you last moments in a hospital room free from pain and suffering. The more I thought, I began to appreciate that the health system had provided him with this sedation to bring him peace in his last days of life – doing their best to keep him comfortable, despite the unspectacular food and environment.

I wrote this piece of music with this compassionate bleaching of identity in mind. I felt it was fitting to write an instrumental piece, given that people remarkably retain their ability to connect with music even when brain functions are impaired, which I imagined would often be the case in end-of-life. I was hoping to achieve a warm comforting tone that was detached from any distinct structure, which bore no resemblance to distinct genres of music, or could be recognised as arising from any time or place. Further, I wanted it to be devoid of complexity, as to be experienced in the present, without reflection of where it came from, or anticipation of what is to come.