A reminder that I am human
Last Saturday we were performing at an event like usual. We prepped ourselves and got into costume. We did a few runs with the performers. The stage manager prepped us before we went on.
The MC called us up and we set up chairs. Then we set up microphones. And then we situated ourselves and our instruments. During all of this the MC had me explain a little bit about the performance and the instruments. It was all fine and relaxed, and I remarked to myself that I haven't actually seen our performances in a long time (because I've been caught up in other life things) and how we looked great and that the actual performance was what everything is all about.
And it was really a great time to enjoy everything.
Then, midway through the first set, a set that I have performed hundreds maybe thousands of times before, something started happening that has never happened before. My forefinger started to curl, and then the next finger followed suit, and then before I knew it my whole hand became contorted. There was no pain, not really, just a twisting that I knew not to be a cramp as I get those occasionally. It was something else entirely. And in some kind of weird clarity I knew instantly what the feeling was and that it wasn't right.
It was dystonia, rearing it's ugly head after a year and a half of freedom, manifesting itself in a completely different part of my body. I had read in various journals that dystonia moves into different parts of the body, in some instance spreading like a cancer and in others migrating like a parasite.
I fought it. In some strange kind of instinct I refused to let it take me down where I was needed most. I played through it, even used the twisting a little bit. And, like the torticollis before, I failed in many ways. There is no reward in victory, just acceptance and struggle.
I went home that night, reeling from a returned ghost and fear for the future. I was almost out of the dark. My hand felt ethereal and stiff for the rest of the night and the next day, almost as if it wasn't a part of my body but some kind of loose replacement part.
I called the hospital on Monday. Chapter 3, I am ready for you.
The MC called us up and we set up chairs. Then we set up microphones. And then we situated ourselves and our instruments. During all of this the MC had me explain a little bit about the performance and the instruments. It was all fine and relaxed, and I remarked to myself that I haven't actually seen our performances in a long time (because I've been caught up in other life things) and how we looked great and that the actual performance was what everything is all about.
And it was really a great time to enjoy everything.
Then, midway through the first set, a set that I have performed hundreds maybe thousands of times before, something started happening that has never happened before. My forefinger started to curl, and then the next finger followed suit, and then before I knew it my whole hand became contorted. There was no pain, not really, just a twisting that I knew not to be a cramp as I get those occasionally. It was something else entirely. And in some kind of weird clarity I knew instantly what the feeling was and that it wasn't right.
It was dystonia, rearing it's ugly head after a year and a half of freedom, manifesting itself in a completely different part of my body. I had read in various journals that dystonia moves into different parts of the body, in some instance spreading like a cancer and in others migrating like a parasite.
I fought it. In some strange kind of instinct I refused to let it take me down where I was needed most. I played through it, even used the twisting a little bit. And, like the torticollis before, I failed in many ways. There is no reward in victory, just acceptance and struggle.
I went home that night, reeling from a returned ghost and fear for the future. I was almost out of the dark. My hand felt ethereal and stiff for the rest of the night and the next day, almost as if it wasn't a part of my body but some kind of loose replacement part.
I called the hospital on Monday. Chapter 3, I am ready for you.
posted by RJ at 2:13 PM
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