Retag wrote:
Thank you for sharing your story with us.
Some people do not understand what music feels like to me. Driving 2+ hours to see a show, buying music even though I already own tons, playing the music that I want to play. To lose the ability to play music would bring up feelings that you described.
Playing music is not only in your hands, but mainly in your mind and ears. Beethoven continued to compose and conduct music even after he was completely deaf. Guitarist Jason Becker, who is completely immobile due to ALS, continues to compose music even though all he can move are his eyes.
http://vimeo.com/jasonbeckermovieIn 2007 I went to the eye doctor for a routine examination, and he told me that my optic nerves were swollen. I asked him what it meant, and he hemmed and hawed until I told him to just give me the straight dope, because I could handle it. That was a lie; I knew from the way he was acting it would be really bad news and it terrified me, but I still needed to know.
The doctor sort of flapped his arms in a big shrug and said, "It could be a brain tumor, or it could be the first signs of multiple sclerosis."
It was the the worst thing I could've heard. I have a special terror of brain tumors and those wasting diseases. So I went out and sat in my car and thought about it, and I concluded, "Why not me? What makes me special? People get terminal diagnoses every day. If it's my time, I'll squeeze every last drop of living out of my life. I'll appreciate every single tiny fragment of beauty and positivity and art and humanity I witness." And I was at peace with it. Not happy, but accepting.
Luckily it was a weird disease called "pseudotumor cerebri," which causes your brain to manufacture too much cerebrospinal fluid, which is trapped in the closed system of your head and spine and builds up pressure, damaging your optic nerves. I was cured after a 6-month course of medication, but it can come back. It's funny that I accepted the possibility of a brain tumor or multiple sclerosis in about 15 minutes, but it took me ten years to admit I can't play bass anymore. Tells you about my priorities, I guess. I loved bass more than life itself, maybe.
Hopefully I'll never face something like MS and ALS. But like Jason Becker, I still hear music in my head, and I play it flawlessly on my imaginary bass.