Texas Doctor Brings Vinyl Music Therapy To Patients

In the heart of Austin, Texas, a unique melody is weaving its way through the sterile corridors of Dell Seton Medical Center. It’s not the usual beeping of monitors or the hushed conversations of nurses—it’s the warm, nostalgic crackle of vinyl records, spinning tales of comfort and hope for patients facing some of life’s toughest challenges. At the center of this musical revolution is Dr. Tyler Jorgensen, whose innovative ATX-VINyL program is transforming palliative care by bringing the healing power of music directly to the bedside.

On December 22, 2025, the hospital’s atmosphere was anything but ordinary. In one of the patient rooms, 64-year-old Pamela Mansfield found herself swaying her feet to the familiar tune of George Jones’ “She Thinks I Still Care.” Still recovering from her sixth neck surgery since April after a serious fall, Mansfield was candid about her struggles. “Seems to be the worst part is the stiffness in my ankles and the no feeling in the hands,” she shared with KUT News. But she quickly added, “Music makes everything better.”

This sentiment isn’t just anecdotal. According to NPR, the ATX-VINyL program was born out of Dr. Jorgensen’s desire to connect with patients who were otherwise difficult to reach. The idea struck him about three years ago, early in his fellowship in palliative care, when he felt unable to break through to a particularly withdrawn patient. “I couldn’t draw this man out, and I felt like he was really struggling and suffering,” Dr. Jorgensen recalled. In a moment of inspiration, he played Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back in Town.” The transformation was immediate. “He was telling me old stories about his life. He was getting more honest and vulnerable about the health challenges he was facing,” said Dr. Jorgensen. “And it just struck me that all this time I’ve been practicing medicine, there’s such a powerful tool that is almost universal to the human experience, which is music, and I’ve never tapped into it.”

Driven by this revelation, Dr. Jorgensen began curating a collection of vinyl records to suit a wide range of musical tastes. Today, the hospital boasts a library of over 60 albums, including classics like Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumours,” Etta James, John Denver, and the ever-popular Vince Guaraldi Trio’s “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” The most requested album, by a landslide, is “Rumours”—a testament to the enduring power of music to connect generations and spark memories.

The process is as thoughtful as it is simple. Volunteers, led by Daniela Vargas—a pre-med student at the University of Texas at Austin—consult with nursing staff to identify patients who might benefit from a musical visit. Then, armed with a portable record player and a handpicked selection of vinyl, they wheel the cart into patient rooms. The vinyl format isn’t just a quirky throwback; it’s central to the experience. “There’s just something inherently warm about the friction of a record—the pops, the scratches,” Dr. Jorgensen told NPR. “It sort of resonates through the wooden record player, and it just feels different.”

For Mansfield, the choice was clear: country music. Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, and George Jones were among her favorites, reminding her of childhood days spent listening to records with her parents. As soon as the music started, Mansfield’s mood lifted. She joked, “I have great taste in music. Men, on the other hand … ehhh. I think my picker’s broken.” Her laughter filled the room, a stark contrast to the often heavy atmosphere of hospital recovery.

But the impact of ATX-VINyL goes far beyond a fleeting smile. As Vargas explained to KUT News, “We are usually not in the room for the entire time, so it’s a more intimate experience for the patient or family, but being able to interact with the patient in the beginning and at the end can be really transformative.” The program creates opportunities for patients and their loved ones to forge new, positive memories—even as they navigate the uncertainty and sadness that often accompany serious illness.

The volunteers’ role is crucial. Vargas, whose passion for music therapy was sparked while playing violin for isolated patients during the COVID-19 pandemic, now leads the team that brings these moments of joy to life. The volunteers’ visits are tailored: some patients, like Mansfield, are working hard toward recovery and find motivation in the music. “It’s motivating,” Mansfield said. “Me and my broom could dance really well to some of this stuff.” Others are near the end of life, and the record player offers a brief but meaningful respite from the weight of their circumstances. Dr. Jorgensen described these moments poignantly: “Now you’re sort of looking at it together and thinking, ‘What are we going to do with this thing? Let’s play something for Mom, let’s play something for Dad.’ And you are creating a new, positive, shared experience in the setting of something that can otherwise be very sad, very heavy.”

The healing power of music therapy isn’t just about nostalgia or distraction. According to both NPR and KUT News, patients report feeling more connected, more open, and more hopeful. The physical environment of the hospital—often described as sterile or impersonal—is transformed, if only briefly, by the warmth and familiarity of a favorite song. Dr. Jorgensen likens the record player to a “time machine,” transporting patients out of the hospital and back into cherished moments with family and friends.

Even the logistics have a personal touch. Volunteers like Vargas don’t just drop off the record player and leave. They take time to talk with patients, learn about their musical preferences, and sometimes share in the listening experience. The result is a program that feels less like a hospital service and more like a visit from an old friend bearing a treasured memory.

For Mansfield, the ATX-VINyL program marked a turning point. On the day she listened to George Jones, she celebrated a small but significant victory: standing up for three minutes, the longest since her most recent surgery. The music, she said, gave her the energy and motivation to keep pushing forward. “It’s motivating,” she repeated, her optimism as infectious as the melodies that filled her room.

As the ATX-VINyL program continues to grow, its impact is being felt not just by patients, but by their families, volunteers, and the broader medical community. Dr. Jorgensen’s simple but profound insight—that music is a universal language capable of healing—has found a home in the unlikeliest of places: a hospital ward in Austin, Texas. And for patients like Pamela Mansfield, that makes all the difference.