His valiant attempts to puncture the stupid thing while trying to draw fluid from it — hence poking it repeatedly with the best of intentions — didn’t actually help anything, but he didn’t feel that any nerve damage or loss of dexterity was in the offing, nor that if surgery were needed that it would mean anything more (irritating) than being unable to use my right hand freely for about a month. Again, he was confident that there was little to no risk of nerve or tendon damage or loss of dexterity if surgery should be needed.
So I did what any self-respecting pissed off musician with a compulsion to use my hands would do last night, and played the piano and knit the whole time. I mean, if I’m not going to use my hands, I might as well not even have the stupid things. I’ll continue to keep rice bags in the freezer in case things get uncomfortable, and if need be, I can go get the goddamned cyst removed surgically with some confidence. (He seemed like a good guy.)
Until then, I will happily pass the buck to myself at a later date.
I do like playing an instrument that’s welcoming to people with only one good hand, but I’d rather not be one of them. Left-hand repertoire is too hard for me, and I love nothing more than pounding the daylights out of the thing with both hands as far apart as possible. That was another thing about the viola that frustrated me — you couldn’t really whale on it. Your bow arm might have been moving around a lot, but you couldn’t ever really give the thing a good pounding. You always had to be very delicate and controlled with it no matter how loud and energetic the music was. I’m no jock, but I like a little more athleticism in music. I still remain fascinated by the concept of a small instrument, though. I had a mild flirtation with the idea of buying a cheap pocket trumpet for no good reason, but the overbite put a stop to that. But I still just love the idea of an instrument that can be stuck in an overnight bag. Alas.