...it is settled.
The date was called in yesterday. The day that will determine my future course of events. The day that..will live..in...infamy (not really, but I'm on a roll) The day...that will determine my future as either a famous (soon-to-be) drummer, or a third-rate computer builder. Or a third-rate dishwasher. Or a third rate burger flipper, which, in this country, is now considered a MANUFACTURING job, and devoid of any benefits, affordable health insurance, etc. etc.
March 7, 2006
Carpal Tunnel Release Surgery
The surgeon who will perform this delicate task is Dr. Fink (to answer your question, Jaime.)
Oh, by the way, Happy Six-More-Weeks-Of-Winter Day. Thanks a LOT, Phil!!!
(like i GIVE a shit)
anyhoooo....
yeah...so that's the day...30-somethin' days away. How worried am I? I am confident the doctor will do a great job. But that doesn't answer my question.
How worried am I?
Would I be lying if I told you I wasn't?
The short answer is YES.
as the clock ticks by until that day, I think about what has led me to this point...I think about how it will go, and that it will go well...my brain likes to put these cynical thoughts in itself about this endeavor, but so long as they're just thoughts...
Do I need to start thinking about a rest of a life without drums, if it (GOD please forbid) comes to that point? For 18 years, I haven't thought about much else, except for food (that could be another whoppingly large blog enitrely). I well up with tears just thinking about it. I could play guitar, or piano, or even bass, which I love also. But drums...drums are my second language, much more than Greek has ever been. (oh, for those not in the know, I was born in the US, to Greek immigrants. I speak fluent Greek. Pretty well, I might add.)
I grew up learning piano, and taking piano lessons, but when I moved to Greece at age 11 (yet another whoppingly large blog there, also) I wanted to get back into playing piano, but not really. There was a desire to play MUSIC, in whatever form I could get it. At that time, I began to sing more because that was pretty much my only outlet that I knew of that involved music. And listening. Whatever I could get my hands on, which for an 11-year-old, money-wise, isn't much.
I think of the mix tapes that I made when still in the States recording songs off the radio, or putting my boombox against the speaker of the family stereo and recording my Dad's records that way, because it was a vinyl/8 TRACK stereo. And 8 tracks had JUST gone out of style then. Telling my mom to be quiet 'cause I was recording, when only minutes later the abrupt sound of a vaccuum cleaner would present itself. Or, after a successful quiet run of recording, listening back, only to find out that it sounds nothing like the original (I knew that going into it) and the fact that it didn't sound very good, either. But my recordings off the radio sounded better, so I went that route.
Anyway, back to Greece. I was always recording, always listening, trying to find stuff that I liked, and weeding out music that I didn't care much for. All that time, though, I was an ok piano player, but I had no want, no innate desire, to PLAY piano all the time, if at all.
When I came back to the States, I began playing drums that summer('87). What started out as something cool to do, mostly because it was easy, even back then, became an OBSESSION. I was playing my kit, when I got it later that fall, anytime I could. When my parents were home from work or resting, they didn't want to hear "peep", so that obviously meant no drums. But I still wanted to play. My brain wouldn't stop. So, air drumming became a necessary "evil" My ears were always sharp, but my hands, on the other hand, were not.
When you're air drumming with a stick, there is no surface to strike, so there's nowhere for the force to go. Because there is no surface, you are essentially creating the illusion of a surface, and your wrist, in turn, does "double duty" as upstroke AND downstroke. I wasn't using much fingers at that time, if at all. Any movement(force)made by the arm in air drumming is absorbed by the wrist. Now, add to it that whenever my arms or wrists hurt, I dismissed at "growing pains", like "no pain, no gain", right? Add to THAT I was air drumming, my most intensive period of air drumming time was from about 1988 to ....1993, about when I graduated high school. In that time period I was air drumming on average 4 to 5 times a week, 60-120 minutes each session, usually 1 or 2 CDs worth of material.
SO...six years worth of stop-start with my wrists, as I was growing (I think my growth spurt was 13, then again at 16...all of this has contributed to the CTS that I have endured since January of 1996.
So now, this is payback, for all the damage done to my hands...
I could, and hope, to look at it as a new beginning...as a door that will open another door that will help me achieve my goal...I cannot imagine a life like mine without drums...I believe if I didn't start at 12 I would've gotten into them eventually...
I am born...I am on this earth...to play drums. Period. My purpose is to give comfort, to entertain, to inspire the masses, with drums as my medium. The drumset, specifically, is the medium, although I'm not a bad conga player, either. SO, any surgery that will help me continue to play, numbness-free, will be welcome and appreciated. I'll most likely be saying to myself afterward "you should've done this sooner" but I know now the last resort after 18 months of chiropractors, massage therapists, acupuncturists, pressure, trigger points, emollients, low level lasers, and all of this having no long-term relief from ANY of it, is surgery. And I'm happy with that decision.
The door is about to open, and I'm about to walk in.
Wish me luck.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
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2 comments:
christo's--- I know its scary, but Fink is a great surgeon! Where are you having the surgery done? RGH or Park Ridge?
WE'll see you on Saturday!!
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