Fresh out of the Eurovision arena, I’ve been taking some time to process the whirlwind of emotions from the past few weeks. It’s been the most incredible experience of my life, and I’m filled with gratitude for the people who’ve supported me through it all. Friends, family, new connections, fellow songwriters—and in this context especially—my colleagues and the NHS trusts I’ve had the privilege to work with. Your support has meant the world.
When I first wrote about being a digital systems specialist, I focused on the flexibility, independence, and deep thinking the role demands—particularly in healthcare, where digital transformation touches real lives. But since then, something extraordinary happened: I had songs in three Eurovision national finals, including the winner in Croatia which went on to represent Croatia at Eurovision. I’m also writing in most other genres too including, K-Pop, EDM, Trance, Afro-beats, Pop, Country and Folk.
Balancing a career in clinical systems with a creative life in songwriting isn’t just about time management—it’s about dual devotion. I love the clarity and problem-solving of digital consultancy. I love the chaos and magic of a studio in Oslo, Berlin or The Netherlands. One grounds me; the other lifts me.
In the coming months, I’ll be attending writing camps across Europe and Asia: Latvia and Dublin in June, a K-pop camp in Finland, and another in Thailand this October. These camps are intensive, collaborative spaces where songs are born in hours and sometimes go on to touch millions. Between client calls and writing lyrics, I’m living proof that tech and creativity can coexist not just peacefully, but powerfully.
Through my work with Apira, I support multiple NHS Trusts on a variety of clinical systems and digital transformation projects. Each Trust has different needs, challenges, and timelines—and that variety suits me. It means I can bring deep focus to each assignment without being tied to a rigid schedule. I can work remotely, often while travelling, and still be a consistent, responsive presence for my clients. If I’m in a different time zone for a writing camp, I adjust. I plan meetings at times that suit both my collaborators and my clients, and the work gets done—often better, because I’m not burnt out from forcing my creativity or my consultancy into a box.
A big part of what makes this possible is working as an associate and the type of work that Apira does. This has allowed me to embrace my dual career and given me the space to do both—with trust, flexibility, and respect. And I genuinely believe more organisations could benefit from this mindset. Let people fly, and they’ll often give you more—because they’re not constantly choosing between who they are and what they do. When someone feels seen, supported in their work, and allowed to thrive on their own terms, they work with more energy, more clarity, and more loyalty.
My work spans projects as diverse as electronic patient records (EPR) business cases, stakeholder engagement, business analysis, project management, clinical safety documentation, supplier assessments, and large-scale strategic planning. I collaborate closely with clinicians, programme leads, digital boards, and suppliers—each project unique, each requiring strong communication, diplomacy, and clarity of thought. I’m trusted to deliver because I bring both experience and flexibility. I don’t panic in the detail, and I don’t get stuck in the weeds. I translate between leadership, clinical language, and digital delivery—so everyone moves forward together.
Songwriting, meanwhile, lets me speak a different kind of truth. One that’s emotional, instinctive, and urgent. I’ve sat in studio rooms with artists from different cultures, navigating language barriers to find shared emotion. I’ve crafted melodies to match stories of heartbreak, hope, and freedom. And I’ve stood back as those songs—songs that started as rough voice notes—found their way to Eurovision stages or K-pop demos with global potential.
What’s surprising is how each career strengthens the other. My digital work keeps me rooted, precise, and outcome-focused. My creative work keeps me open, curious, and responsive. One world teaches me about people’s pain points and practicalities. The other teaches me how people dream.
And I don’t take any of it for granted. I worked for decades in structured, office-bound roles where creativity was squeezed into the evenings and weekends. I know what it’s like to feel unseen. I also know what it’s like to juggle unpaid creative work while holding down a demanding day job. So this version of my life—travelling between writing camps and client meetings, building songs and systems—it’s the result of both skill and persistence. And it’s not just for me. It’s for others too.
Because I believe visibility matters. It matters for women in tech. For neurodivergent professionals. For midlife creatives. For multi-hyphenate careerists. For anyone wondering if they’re “too late” to do the thing they love, or too “other” to be taken seriously in two different industries.
This isn’t about doing two jobs. It’s about choosing both parts of who I am and refusing to shrink either one. It’s about working in ways that align with what I bring—not just what a template role description says.
Yes, I deliver clinical system strategies, project reports, and safety documentation with rigour and reliability. Yes, I also write lyrics that have helped artists chart, compete, and connect. Yes, I switch between technical precision and creative flow with ease.. And no, I don’t want to stop doing either.
This article is about how that balance works—for me and potentially for others who’ve never quite fitted into one lane. It’s for the multi-hyphenates, the portfolio-career professionals, and anyone wondering if it’s possible to lead two lives and still get a full night’s sleep.
Spoiler: it is.
To find out more about me and my journey please head over to my LinkedIn page here
