The roar of a thousand musicians making their final instrumental adjustments drifts by with the summer breeze. The air is thick, loaded with the tensions of the day. As we march in unison to the arena, not just a band of strangers tied by one common goal, but a harmonious family, we feel the heat of hundreds of spectators’ eyes on us. Like clockwork, I become aware of the familiar physiological changes taking hold; my tachycardia seeming to trump even the quickest drum roll, diaphoresis threatens my grip on the chanter and I sense the classical perioral and digital tingling of respiratory alkalosis that I’d come to associate with competition days.
Having played the bagpipes for the best part of two decades, and competed at countless major and minor events, one would assume that a four minute performance with the band I had been a member of since I was little girl should be as simple as remembering to wash your hands at the start of every OSCE station, however as we all know, this is not the case.
Like many who are drawn to study medicine, I am somewhat of a perfectionist and so I often wish that someone had warned me when I began learning the chanter at the age of 8 about the erratic and sometimes utterly unpredictable nature of our national instrument. A bit too much heat, a bit too little moisture, the bridle a smidge too high here, or the tape over a finger-hole a millimetre too low there and the whole sound is completely thrown. At times knowing what your pipes may sound like from one day to the next is harder to predict than next year’s ScotGEM timetable.
Yet so many of us choose to put ourselves through this torture season after season, why? I think there is something unique about the pressure of the pipe band circuit that inextricably bonds those involved together. It’s a sense of teamwork that I haven’t really experienced anywhere else; not on my Duke of Edinburgh hikes, my hospitality jobs or any of the other ‘“teams’ I had listed on my countless medicine applications. The initial sense of relief followed by absolute exhilaration when the total myriad of things that could go wrong on the day don’t has to be rivalled only by opening an exam paper to see that the first question is on ‘sore throat’. On a serious note, after all these years I still find the feeling of achievement when our band places at a competition completely overwhelming at times. A recent personal highlight was being crowned a European Champion in 2018.
I think being able to concentrate on, and occasionally excel, at a hobby outside of medicine brings a real sense of confidence with it. I feel the competitive nature of my pastime promotes the development of resilience too; both qualities that as an aspiring doctor I strive to possess. I therefore count myself lucky that I have the opportunity to expel some of the hot air that I am full of both inside and outside of the classroom!
