The Fingers Come Last

That’s what they told me at the rehab hospital. The big muscles come first, then the little ones. Thus, the legs come back before the arms do, the shoulder comes back before the forearm does, and the little fingers come last. Unfortunately, for a pianist, your fingers are your first concern.

I remember when a friend of mine got terribly stabbed. He was a violinist. In the Emergency Room, he pleaded with a doctor, “Please save my hands; I play the violin.” Thank God. He got one of the best hand surgeons in the area and they saved his ability to play.

As for me, no one can give me any guarantee. What they’ve always told me is, “Use it or lose it. It stops getting better when it stops getting better.” It would be so reassuring  for a doctor to tell me, “Oh, you’ll make a full recovery.” But I don’t have that. All I get is, “We don’t know how much progress you’ll make. Everybody is different.” I must press on, not knowing how much I’ll ever get back. All they tell me is that the fingers come last.

But I had the tiniest glimmer of hope this morning. Like I mentioned before, I’ve been doing fundamental finger exercises on the piano. But with these finger exercises, I have no ability to lift my fingers. What I do is lift my entire left arm, my elbow askew, and stab at the piano, trying to get the right finger to come down on the right key. Sometimes I get it, sometimes I don’t. What happened this morning was a first.

For the longest time, the only finger I could actually move up-and-down was my index finger. In the beginning, the movement was less than a centimeter. Now, I can raise and lower it much better. My other fingers,  however, could not be raised. It’s like they were glued down. But this morning, I tried something new. Holding down all the fingers in my left hand, and focusing on moving just one finger at a time, … it happened! I saw the tiniest movement in the middle finger of my left hand. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? I tried it again, summoning all my mental strength. I focused on just that one finger…  YES! It moved the smallest fraction of a centimeter. Next, I tried my ring finger. That one came around with great effort, but at least it took less effort than the middle finger! My pinky seemed to rejoice as it gladly moved almost half an inch! Maybe God is giving me a glimmer of hope.

Not too long ago, I did a search on the internet and found footage of a man addressing a group of doctors from a piano. This man was a professional pianist and had experienced a stroke that took out his right side. Yet, here he was on stage, playing the piano with all of the dexterity, beauty, and power he had possessed before the stroke! He told the group of doctors before him that because of the neuroplasticity of the brain, he was able to practice his way back to the level of skill and expertise he enjoyed before the stroke. It was a long process though, and improvements were incremental. Maybe that’s where I’m at. Baby steps. More frustrating, tedious, disheartening baby steps. But like a friend of mine told me, “Inch by inch, anything’s a cinch!” Well maybe not a cinch, but it puts things in a better perspective. Maybe full recovery is a possibility if I persevere and don’t give up. It reminds one of Galatians 6:9, doesn’t it?

Please pray for me that I will not become discouraged and that I persevere with all my exercises and therapies, and many doctors’ appointments. Pray also for healing concerning other pestering health issues that may or may not be directly related to the stroke. God bless you all.

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you.” – Philippians 1:3 (NASB)