Elana Lehrer

It's been a long journey, 9 and a half months so far since surgery, and I'm in pain more crippling now than I ever could have imagined. And my surgeon dumped me this week. He can't help. Maybe someone else can. At night I lie awake with post-op complications and explosive headaches that make the seconds stretch into eternity and I try to remember what it is about life that makes me want to get up in the morning and do it again.

I had a student ask me to play something and my fiddle was already packed up and it was time to go. But she said, please, and thrust her fractional sized VSO (heh, it buzzes instead of pulling a sound) into my arms. So I played, not sure if I was flinching from pain or just how horrible her fiddle is. Still, her eyes lit up. "When you play," she said, "it just sounds like a rainbow." And I guess that is why I get up in the morning.

I'm seeing a great shoulder surgeon next week. My fate is in her hands. And I'm overly sentimental as it is.... but I'm hoping she can steer me towards a cure. I've had enough dark clouds; I'm just waiting for my rainbow now.

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