Defining Myself Along the Journey Takes a Musical Turn
July 16, 2012 
18 Comments
As a believer that life often happens as it should, I gave into life’s flow and found myself taking music lessons.
This musical chicken has finally stepped up to the reed.
As a reader of this blog, you should thank your lucky stars that this forum doesn’t come with a sound track as things could get pretty painful over the next few weeks. I am now taking saxophone lessons. Yes, you read correctly. At 53, one might expect some other, less harrowing hobby or interest to crop up. But this is where life’s flow has landed me and who am I to question it?
During the past few weeks, life’s rapids have steered me, crosscurrent by crosscurrent into community action, parent groups (gasp!) and the opportunity to get to know my son’s middle school music teacher who is an extremely talented musician and instructor. His middle school musicians could easily compete, note by note, bar by bar with high school performers. Last week, after reviewing a draft of his CV, I sent it back with a few very minor notations and wrote, ”OK, I’m really impressed now. (And somewhat depressed that I never picked up an instrument.)” I’ve always loved almost any type of music and am even in awe of my 14 year-old trumpeter and his musically-inclined friends. For me, it was always a dream not to be realized.
Two minutes later, a reply landed in my inbox: “It’s never too late to pick up an instrument…”
Believe it or not… this little saying popped up on my Facebook feed this week.
Ummm… Suddenly I felt as if life’s flow had pummeled me into a rock and I was jammed. Should I fight my way out or wait for the river’s flow to adjust and carry me forward? I walked out of my office, filled with a mix of amusement and terror, and took an informal poll of my colleagues. I asked them “IF I were to play an instrument, what would it be…?” Luckily, for my ego, there were no immediate bursts of laughter. Instead, three heads turned in unison and said “Sax…” Was the immediate consensus some sort of sign?
I sent another email: “How about sax…?”
Immediate reply: “Sax would be a great choice–easiest to learn… badly! Took me about a week to understand it about as well as I do now.” I was beginning to understand that this might be an opportunity rather than a source of panic. I liked the words “easiest to learn…” As for “badly…” it’s a challenge I accept. Regarding the rest of his reply, time is relative. I am sure his week will be many for me. I accept that too.
Oddly, this twist of fate couldn’t come at a better time. It will help me define myself in a new way and provide a welcomed alternate focus as I come off of treatment this fall. As patients, we define ourselves and realities in ways that give us as much comfort as possible. For two and a half years, I have been a “patient” with an active, multi-pronged plan of attack–surgery, radiation, hormone ablation… I will soon enter what many others refer to as ”nowhere land.” It can be an agonizing place where we patients in waiting are left to wonder what the future holds. The term “survivor” is not a definition I feel I cannot assume for another three years if and when I hear those magic words, “you are cancer-free.” ( That’s a highly personal decision, with no right or wrong answer, that I’ve written about before in the blog.)
As I prepare to enter the next phase of my journey, I will be more than a patient, I will also be a music student. Note by missed note, beat by missed beat, I will focus on changing that “badly” into at least a “passable” and smiling inwardly as I proceed. There will be a new milestone to achieve in that unknown future that is mine.
This is no bucket list reaction. The upside of living with cancer is that it makes you see life differently and embrace opportunity.
Thank you, Mr. Sutherland, for your patience and willingness teach an old(er) dog new tricks. And many thanks to my loving family and friends for their avid encouragement. If I ever get any good at this, I just might someday embed a soundtrack on this site with great pride!
Hi Dan, I think this is just great.
Now, I have to find a new passion.
Hmmmm, what do I want to do, and even better
who do I want to be ?
Keep up the music lessons and then cut a CD!!
Awesome! And if, perchance (why am I speaking Shakespearically?) Mr. Sutherland ends up moving on and you need to find yourself another sax teacher, I happened to be married to one of the most patient and talented ones around! ; )
Fantastic, Dan! As we engineers say, how great to find a passion that is completely orthogonal to anything else you’ve ever done in your life, cancer or no cancer. When I was diagnosed I already had a passion, landscape photography, (http://craigshots.com) whose pleasures and challenges have become increasingly important to me in this long journey. You will never regret the decision you’ve made. And your friends on this blog await the posting of your first recording!
-Craig
That’s terrific, Dan. Last Fall, I found myself looking at some music instruction books and DVDs on a clearance rack. Among them were books and a DVD on learning to play the banjo. For years, I had been interested in the banjo and dreamed of trying it someday. On an impulse, I bought the books and DVD. That night, I called my son, the music major, and told him that I wanted a banjo for Christmas and he and his brother and sister did get one for me. It is one of the best presents that I have ever received. I haven’t taken lessons. So you are ahead of me. I am just using the book, playing when I have time, learning as I go along and enjoying it immensely. It has been a great stress reliever. Would I have done this had I not started my own journey 18 months ago? Probably not. I have learned many things in those 18 months. One thing is to not wait for a better or more convenient time to pursue a dream. The better time is now. I hope you have as much fun with the sax as I am with the banjo. Take Care.
Thank you. Yes, thus far I am having a blast! Good luck with the banjo!
Good Luck with the Lessons!! I expect by Labor Day weekend a youtube link on your blog of your first song!!!
Hope all is well!!
Thanks for the confidence… but Labor Day??? That mnight be a push. But I’ll see what I can do and when I might be able to inflict a song on everyone!
Fantastically marvelous news, Dan.
I didn’t begin piano after diagnosis (I already played the instrument), but I did use my piano more and more after PC, until even I thought I was playing better!
The truly best thing in life is to have a passion that draws you in, takes you away, keeps you enthralled, releases your creativity, and, most important, does not make demands on you that you are uninterested in meeting.
PLUS: music heals.
Dan, you inspire me. God bless you with His best always.
Thank you, my friend!
First, thank you for your wonderful posts. I really look forward to them and I share them with my wife and key friends frequently. You touch more than you know.
When I was first diagnosed at 47, I went into a tail-spin that veered into a clinical anxious depression. My thoughts were obsessive about my prognosis (which was distorted and inaccurate in my mind but all too real in feeling) and what felt like one bad news blast after another.
While seeing a counselor at the local cancer center, she advised that I needed to find something to engage my mind elsewhere, even if just for a few minutes a day and she suggested yoga. Now, I’m an Iowa farm boy and where and when I grew up, I can assure you there was nothing that was acceptable about yoga. Yet, I was desperate and had the will to get better so I tried it, right there at the cancer center. The first class, I was still wearing a pad and “leaking” and I sheepishly told the instructor before class I was worried about making a mess. Her simple response was “well I’ll help you clean it up…get on the mat”. The first two classes, I cried almost the entire class. I didn’t know why but I knew something different was happening in me and for the first time I was feeling some release.
Needless to say, I kept going and now over 5 years later, yoga is my refuge. When I think about it, I get relief. When I am driving toward class, I feel my mind relax. When I start the class on my mat, I am almost always present right then, right there and I have sanctuary.
Finding my passion, albeit from a very unexpected source has honestly been one of the best gifts from this cancer journey. May your new found passion serve you as well.
Rusty,
Thank you so much for taking the time to write. I was particularly taken by your statement: “I didn’t know why but I knew something different was happening in me and for the first time I was feeling some release.” Ifelt tears of happiness starting to well up as I read it. I too am feeling that same effect. I hope it continues because it is absolutely wonderful!
I will now recommend this type of mental therapy to many fellow patients.
Best always,
Dan
Great story, Rusty.
Being in the moment, especially in the moment of passion and happiness, if not contentment, is a major source of healing.
I graduated from music school 30 years ago and due to the demands of marriage and kids put my classical music career (trumpet) on the back burner to making a living. After a PC diagnosis and successful treatment in 2008, I decided I might not have forever to move that passion to the forefront. With great trepidation, I took an audition for a position as principal trumpet in a professional symphony orchestra. I won the job and am beginning my third season this year. Cancer does change your outlook on life, often for the better.
Thank you for sharing that story. I smiled ear to ear reading it on a day I needed it! With which orchestra are you playing? Do you have any video clips? It would be an honor to run it here!
All the best,
Dan
Dan,
I play with the Richardson Symphony in Texas. My second trumpet, Tom Connely, is surviving PC as well. We seem to see a high incident of PC in musicians, not sure why. You can see the orchestra at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G0y4WwNa2k and our brass quartet here with Tom and I on trumpet: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G0y4WwNa2k . A discussion for another topic is that I am on my second year on Testosterone replacement post prostatectomy with a Gleason 3+3 and positive margin. PSA is steady at undetectable (ultrasensitive quarterly)4 years post surgery, testosterone is 450, and many symptoms of low T are now gone. The motivation was that my brother works in statistics at the University of Texas Medical Branch and has told me that “you are the statistic of the thing tha gets you first”. I could win the PC battle and loose the mortality war. My father died early with heart disease and my HDL (good colesterol) has always been very low. On T replacement, carefully monitored or course, HDL is normal, depression is gone, as is fatigue and sleep apnea. I am steadily loosing weight as well. Blood pressure on my last office visit this week was 110/66. I couldn’t keep up with the music career and my consulting practice without it.
My urlogist, Kenneth Goldberg, is one of the cutting edge few to consider T replacement post prostatectomy. I’ll keep you advised of the progress, but an interview with Dr. Goldberg might help a few of the brothers struggling with low T symptoms in the shadow of PC.
All the best prayers and wishes for your continued recovery. Thanks for all you do with this blog,
Jim
Dan —
I seem to be on a track similar to yours. I was diagnosed at 48 years old. I had no surgery: the cancer had already spread to pelvic lymph nodes by the time it was discovered. I went through seven weeks of radiation and am just (two weeks ago)coming off of three years of Lupron.
I spent a year thinking of cancer all day every day. As I settled into the Lupron routine and got reassurance from undetectable PSA readings, I began to work my way out of my cancer concentration and back into the world.
About a year ago I acquired a guitar by chance. While I had always been interested in playing, I had never taken any steps toward actually getting a guitar. I grabbed it when almost literally fell into my lap and have been teaching myself ever since. I look forward to it daily (even though my wife and kids might have had enough). It’s been a great addition to his journey.