“It’s just another morning with regular things to do… I won’t take for granted my lucky life with you.”
— “With You,” Rob McLafferty
Some interviews start with credentials.
This one started with a love lyric.
And honestly? That feels exactly right for The Heart of Innovation — because innovation isn’t always a new device or a new technique. Sometimes it’s a new way to stay human in the middle of a high-stakes career… and a new way to keep your heart in the work when the work is heavy.
This week on the show, Dr. John Phillips and I sat down with Dr. Robert McLafferty, a vascular surgeon from Oregon who has spent decades saving life and limb — while quietly building a second life as a songwriter. Not a “one-day I’ll do it” dream. Not a midlife hobby he posts about twice a year.
A real body of work. Albums. A master’s program. Studio time with 25+ musicians. And a plan to keep medicine in his life while leaning more fully into music.
And here’s the twist that made this episode feel even more 2025:
Rob is doing this right as the music industry is staring down AI — not as a novelty, but as a force that’s already writing and generating songs in seconds.
So we talked about the intersection of all of it:
what it means to be a physician with rhythm
why creative work can reinvigorate clinical work
and how “human-made” art survives when machines can generate sound on demand
A vascular surgeon with real rhythm (and real range)
We opened the show the way we often do — with a little behind-the-scenes life.
John was on call (because of course he was), and we had one of those moments that snaps you back to purpose: when a patient needs help now, and you remember why the work matters.
We also took a moment to recognize Douglas Salisbury, one of our PAD navigators and a PAD Warrior himself, who had been fielding early-morning calls on our PAD Leg Saver Hotline (1-833-PAD-LEGS) — doing what he always does: listening, steadying, offering hope, and helping people find the care they need.
And before we brought Rob in fully, John delivered one of his “vascular moments of inspiration,” pulling quotes from Arthur Conan Doyle — because apparently even Sherlock Holmes can make it into a PAD conversation if you give John enough coffee and a microphone.
Then we got to Rob.
He was in Key West at a conference (yes, we were jealous). But what really stood out wasn’t the location — it was the energy.
When I asked him how he’s balancing full-time vascular surgery with Berklee College of Music coursework, he didn’t hesitate:
It’s “the hardest fun I’ve ever had.”
That line alone tells you a lot about him.
The long road back to music
Rob grew up in Maine, taught himself guitar in high school, and wrote songs early — love songs, first-love songs, the kind you only write when your whole world feels like a single person.
At the same time, he wanted medicine. Specifically: he thought he’d become a pediatric surgeon.
And like so many people who carry two callings, one of them got buried under the weight of training.
He told us his guitar playing faded in med school… and basically stopped in residency. He even said he has regrets about that — because music could have been the balance.
But life isn’t neat. It rarely lets you keep everything at once.
The return to music came years later, catalyzed by a relationship — a partner who encouraged him to pick the guitar up again. He found his old notebooks from high school — handwritten lyrics, old drafts — and something woke up in him.
From there, it turned into momentum: writing again, approaching musicians in Portland, stepping into a studio for the first time, and watching the songs he wrote alone “blossom” with other artists shaping the sound.
He laughed about playing “executive producer,” clarifying that it basically meant: he paid for everything. (Relatable. Also: respect.)
The surprising part: music made him love medicine more
Here’s the part I didn’t expect — and maybe you won’t either.
When we asked how music has influenced his practice, Rob said it has reinvigorated his love for medicine.
Not less medicine. Not escape-from-medicine.
More enjoyment inside medicine.
He described being more relaxed, more engaged, and more connected — and how it opened a door to conversations with patients that aren’t purely clinical. That matters, especially in vascular care, where fear and uncertainty can live in the room even when nobody says the words out loud.
He also articulated something that, as a journalist-turned-patient-advocate, I’ve seen over and over:
Patients often don’t remember every detail of the visit.
They remember how they felt when they left.
And he named something physicians don’t always talk about publicly, but patients feel instantly when it’s done well:
Self-disclosure, used thoughtfully, can be powerful.
When a patient sees you as human — not just a technician, not just a title — trust deepens. And trust changes outcomes. Not because trust is “soft.” Because trust is compliance, follow-up, showing up, walking, stopping smoking, believing it’s worth trying again.
That’s not fluff. That’s vascular reality.
The AI question: when a machine can write a song in 30 seconds
Then we went where The Heart of Innovation always goes: into the future.
John brought up the elephant in every songwriter’s room right now — AI-generated music — and asked how Rob feels about it.
Rob didn’t sugarcoat it. He said most songwriters aren’t happy about it, because it can feel like replacement — and he pointed to tools like Suno (spelling it out on air) that can generate a song from a prompt almost instantly.
But he also made an important observation: AI-generated songs often have a sameness — a recognizable pattern — and he believes human songwriters remain viable because of technique, craft, and the subtle choices that keep listeners engaged.
And then he gave us something I absolutely loved: a glimpse into what Berklee is teaching him — not vague inspiration, but tools.
He talked about songwriting techniques like:
Anaphora (repetition at the beginning of lines — “Every breath you take…”)
Epistrophe (repetition at the end of lines)
Epinelepsis (beginning and ending with the same word/phrase — he used “Yesterday” as the classic example)
If you’re a medicine person, the moment where he says “Epinelepsis sounds like a disease” is going to make you smile. Because yes. Yes it does.
And if you’re a creative person, you know exactly why this matters:
In a world where AI can generate “a song,” what will separate the artists isn’t just emotion — it’s craft.
What he wants next
Rob’s vision isn’t just releasing another album. He wants to co-write. He wants to attend writing camps. He wants to build a library of songs that can be pitched, and he’s already formed an LLC: Clear Sky Songs.
He also made it clear he’s not abruptly abandoning medicine. He’ll likely step out of the operating room in the next few years, but he can continue in roles like wound care, clinic work, and medical directorship — the kind of “medicine with longevity.”
And that, in its own way, is a message worth hearing if you’re in any demanding career:
You don’t have to burn your first identity to build the second.
You can evolve.
Where to find his music (and how to hear “With You”)
Rob is on streaming platforms under Rob McLafferty. He has three albums out, with a fourth album (“My Astoria”) expected in the spring, and he played us a portion of his bluegrass song “With You.”
And if you’re anything like me, that opening lyric will stick — not because it’s flashy, but because it’s simple and honest.
Which feels like the whole point.
A note from us (Global PAD Association)
If you or someone you love is navigating PAD symptoms — leg pain with walking, wounds that won’t heal, cold feet, numbness, burning, tingling — and you feel stuck or unheard, our team is here to listen and help point you toward next steps.
PAD Leg Saver Hotline: 1-833-PAD-LEGS
More resources: PADhelp.org | TheWayToMyHeart.org
Join our Facebook Support Group at PADSupportGroup.org
And if this episode hit you on a personal level — if you’re holding a “second calling” inside you that you’ve been pushing down because life is busy — consider this your nudge.
Sometimes the most innovative thing you can do is bring your whole self back online.
We are “With you.”
