Drumming is good for you. Here’s proof.

During the Covid pandemic, I lived with roughly 3 years of forced inactivity, brought on mostly by the onset of Long Covid and the time I spent too weak to do anything after I developed it. That resulted in high blood pressure, increased depression and other issues. It took time to sort all the pieces, and longer still to figure out how to begin recovery, especially because trying to do too much too fast could be dangerous for my heart and lungs.

Now that I’m past the worst of it, I’ve begun moving again. Not a lot, and not all day every day, but enough that I’m beginning to see a difference in how I feel. I’m sleeping better most nights, and my blood pressure seems to be falling a bit. Arthritis is still an issue, and so is my gut; but I can walk mostly in a straight line now, and I have fewer moments of dizziness.

Today I went outside and played. Demonstration below, followed by a full circle round the block at something like 100-110 bpm. It felt okay.

The plate that holds the practice pad is made of metal, and it’s heavy. Still, even with a pad sitting on in it’s lighter than a drum, and my back is getting used to the weight. At some point, perhaps in a few weeks, I might try carrying a drum with a sling and leg rest and see how it feels. 

Of course, at some point it will get too cold and wet to do this outside every day, but that’s eight to twelve weeks off at least.

I’ll still want to fiddle with the carrier a bit, but it’s reasonably dialed in for my purposes for the time being.

drumming and hand injuries: an experience

For several weeks leading up to the High Holy Days, my left hand was giving me more and more trouble. I developed a locking action in my middle finger that made it difficult -- and increasingly painful -- to uncurl my hand from a fist. My thumb was also sore in the joint connecting it to my hand. I powered through guitar playing all the way through a few days after Yom Kippur, but last Monday morning I hit a wall and could not move my left hand without pain.

That evening, after calling my doctor, I was squeezed into the schedule at my local urgent care center to get a cortisone shot for what had been diagnosed as "trigger finger" in my middle finger. The shot itself was incredibly painful -- levels of sharp and dull pain alternating in waves across my hand that made me yowl in reaction -- not once, but twice.

After the shot, my hard hurt quite a lot for two days, during which I alternated icing and resting at room temperature. I also purchased some compression gloves, recommended by my sister; she told me they make a difference in living with arthritis. I found them to be surprisingly constricting at first, but with subsequent wearings they loosened and softened up a little and I found them to be helpful if I wore them for periods of time.

Today, six days after the shot, I tentatively tried some slow double strokes on a rubber pad to see how it felt. As long as I did not push, and focused on keeping things as slow and relaxed as possible, I could play without pain.  I was thrilled.

I recorded myself so I could look at my hands.

While transitioning from one tempo to a slightly faster one, things got a little rough; but overall I was able to stay relaxed and grounded. Encouraged, I shared my video with friends on the Marching Percussion 101 Facebook group, and their response was very positive.

What did I learn from this experience? A few things.

First, injuries happen. Sometimes they're caused by an impact, other times they're the result of wear and tear and/or overuse. I have osteoarthritis, so I know that I walk a fuzzy line between staying active enough and using my hands too much. Still, I play multiple instruments professionally and I practice almost daily, so overuse is a real risk for me. So is living in a climate where winters are cold and very damp. Still, I make the most of what I have and try to pace myself as much as I can.

I also try to listen to my body, so that when the first signs of "something's not right" appear, I can take time, pay attention and try to tell the difference between a mere strain or bad hand position and something more intense like overuse. When something's truly not right, I can stop and seek help.

After treatment, I listen to my doctor and follow her instructions. In this case, that meant rest. Rest meant a total cessation of activities, including making the bed or washing pots and pans along with playing any of my instruments. And while it was challenging, I did it. And it made a difference.

I'm happy to say that I'm feeling much better, and hope not to repeat the experience of a cortisone shot anytime soon.