Saturday, July 29th, 2006
Welcome back. So glad you could make it. I’m sorry to have been gone
so long, but I really fucked up my hand and could not pick banjo or type
for a while. I was wearing a splint and going to a physical therapist
specializing in hands injuries. I also took various natural anti-
inflammatories, like Vitamin B-12 and turmeric extract. But now I’m
back.
The doctor said I had tenosynovitis, a “musician’s injury.” She said I
probably got it by playing too much banjo. One morning after an intense
weekend of long, loud gigs, I woke up with a sore left hand. I couldn’t
open doors, turn on water, or tune the banjo - though some would say
that’s normal - without pain. I tried to pick through it, but it just got
worse.
Physical therapy was a trip. They started each session by making me sit
in a room with my hand in a box that blew around a bunch of hot air and
ground-up cornhusks. The therapists told me the cornhusks were
considered good conductors of the heat.
Last week a guy came back into the room wearing a soft cast on his
wrist and hand. They sat him down at another one of the machines and
left us alone. After a few minutes I turned his way and said, “What are
you in for?”
He went on to tell me about how he found a cracked-out burglar in his
apartment at 4:30 in the morning a few days earlier. He said he punched
the guy in the face to subdue him while they waited for the cops to
arrive. He broke the bone that connects to his pinkie in his right hand.
He would be out of work for six weeks.
“What about you?” he said.
I really should have lied, concocted some story about whom I had
rescued and the medal I was going to receive as soon as I was well. But
I didn’t.
“I played too much banjo and hurt my hand. I haven’t been able to pick
for the better part of a month.”
I guess I’m lucky he didn’t break his other hand punching me.