I woke up the other day with Island Girl by Elton John stuck in my head. Have no idea who arranged this punishment. Best not to think too much about it or it could be like adding oxygen to a fire. Was thinking more about my hand and rushed out the door, subway to physio therapy appointment. The problem I suffered for months which I assumed was arthritis threatening my future like a new landlord, was actually something called De Quervain’s Tenosynovitis and better still people recover from it.
Usually I can trace how a song got into my head. It’s even fun going backwards and landing on what thought led to what thought led to what thought etc. and therefore how the melody made its entrance and got stuck, but not this time. That morning Island Girl was as much a mystery, like the vegetarian duck appetizer at Buddah’s. The owner tells me it is too labour intensive to explain (I suspect it’s just fried Yuba). The physio therapist asked “is that an Elton John song you’re humming?” No I answered intuitively believing better likelihood of removal is conditional upon never acknowledging it.
She started humming Island Girl while using silicone cups to lift my radial muscle and where it connects to my thumb. Finally some relief and decided I must acquire these magic cups. Turned out to be $80 right then and there or online $6. I’ll wait for the shipping. I’ll even listen to Crocodile Rock, Rocket Man and Daniel if they’ll guarantee its arrival. It has been a weird experience to have so much pain in one hand that I can’t play and to wonder is this my new normal? Makes me think about people who live with chronic pain and its inherent misery. From where I stand now I view people in their 60s, 70s and 80s differently than I did when I was younger. I sense many of them trying to cope with undesirable body changes and adding to their suffering the sappy sounds of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road inexplicably in the background on loop.