The Black Strat

Just the thought of needles makes most people a bit queasy but they don’t bother me at all, so I had a little fun on Facebook with this picture of my brand spankin’ new wood glue syringe.  I posted the picture and left it up hoping people would guess what it was used for but most people grew concerned that it was for my personal use so I had to set the record straight and tell them what it was really used for.

As I’ve said before, this blog isn’t always about Chiari; this entry begins a series of posts based on the sad little “Strat” pictured below.  This poor guitar had been hanging up in the music studio where my daughter takes piano lessons for well over a year.  The guy that owns the studio also sells beginner instruments, nothing I would ever be interested in but stuff that is serviceable for someone just starting to learn to play an instrument.  That way if they decide they aren’t really interested in playing guitar, bass, or piano they aren’t left with a huge investment.  Back to this guitar…It was hanging behind the area where the register is so I figured it was waiting for a repair or maybe it was damaged in shipping and was going to be sent back.  Ever since it showed up I’ve been intrigued by it, always wondering what its story was.  This guitar is the cheapest “Strat” that Fender makes, it’s called a Starcaster, I think you used to be able to buy them at Target or Walmart.  A few weeks ago I finally got a good look at it, and wow was it beat up, I could see a crack that went ALL the way through the body.  Suddenly my mind started to consider the possibility of buying the guitar, fixing the body damage, and "hot rodding" it.  I called the owner of the studio and asked what was up with the black “Strat” with the big ol’ crack. The story is that someone brought it to him to see if it could be repaired - it can be – after it had been dropped.  The poor thing looks more like it was thrown accrosss a room than dropped.  Anyway, he told them it could be fixed but it would cost more than it’s worth.  Apparently they held no love in their hearts for this little black gem because they left it and never returned.  I asked him if it was for sale since I knew I could repair it, he said “give me ten-bucks and it’s yours”, so I did.  As soon as I got it home I checked the neck, and to my amazement it is perfectly straight, the frets are a bit sharp but a little time with the file will fix that.  And as a bonus all of the pickups work, and it even stayed in tune.  So here is my $10 guitar.

Lets take a closer look at the it, the body damage is just the beginning…

OUCH!! There is more than one crack

The back makes it seem so much better...Hey look you can see part of me :) 

Closer…Dang, looks like someone took a hammer to it!

CLOSER…Oh No, thank goodness for wood glue and clamps!!

CLOSER STILL…is this a crack or a ding or a gouge?

There is either something seriously wrong with the tremolo system on this guitar or someone tightened the screws as tight as they could.  Let’s hope the screws are just really tight because in this picture all of the tension is off the strings and it’s still tilted all the way forward.

Moving on…Oh the headstock.  First of all the tuning machines, I mean really, how freakin hard is it to find the correct size el-cheapo tuning machine, plus there is a busted one they never replaced.  They hated this thing so much that they just stuck anything on there, they will all be replaced, and maybe I’ll even splurge and go for staggered locking tuners.  I’m also not a fan of the shape of the headstock so I’ll be changing it to something more esthetically pleasing to my eye.  Looks like I’ll get to play with my saws and sanders again.  I love that it says it was "Crafted" in China.

Let’s take a look at what is going to happen to my $10 guitar

• Disassemble the entire guitar
• Repair the body issues – hence the syringe.  I'll probably relic the paint job.
• Repair or replace the tremolo
• Replace all of the electronics.  All new pickups, since this is a cheap guitar I’m going low budget so I’ll probably just put in a set of Fender TexMex pickups. It will also get new pots, 5 position switch, output jack and of course all new wiring.
• Replace white pickguard with a black one.  I’m going for the David Gilmore look
• Change shape of headstock
• File, clean and dress the frets
• Replace the nut
• Replace the tuning machines
• Replace the crappy string trees
• Add strap locks
• Set it up – Make sure the intonation is correct
• Enjoy my new addition.

As I make progress there will be new posts.  I’m looking forward to having a project so stay tuned.

Woot Woot!!!!!

It sure seemed like 2017 was shaping up to be a shitty year.  The headache pain was getting worse, I was having more bad days and far fewer good days, and my left side –especially my left hand – was at times turning me into a clumsy mess.  I was dropping stuff all the time and my left leg would decide it didn’t want to cooperate when I was trying to walk.  And the biggest disappointment, the Botox didn’t seem to be helping any longer.  Things got bad enough that in February my neurologist decided to send me for an MRI, as you may know I'm not a fan of MRI's (click here for more).  The MRI results can be filed under “Tell me something I didn’t already know”; there is fluid accumulating around the surgical site.  I knew from prior MRI's that the patch under my zipper was leaking, it’s not enough to cause concern – for me anyway, but Dr. Boor was a bit worried about it -  and even if it’s causing some problems I’m not going back under the surgeon’s knife until there are really horrible symptoms.

Since I have been seeing Dr. Boor I have keeping a headache journal.  It’s basically a monthly calendar where I enter the pain scale number for the day, and what meds I took that day, I’ll also note if I did something that day to make the pain worse.  When he started me on the journal he explained his version of the 1-10 headache pain scale.  The colorful words are mine…1-3 are your basic everyday headaches better known as “normal people headaches”, 4 puts you into sinus infection pain territory or “damn my head really hurts”, 5 starts the migraine pain levels, 5 is better known as “oh my god my head is killing me”, 6 is “oh shit, it hurts so much I want to gouge my eyes out”, 7 is “oh fuck me, there really are 7 levels of hell and I think I’ve found an 8^th , I need my bed”, 8 is “it hurts so bad I want to smash my head against the wall until I pass out”.  Levels 9 and 10 are either you’re recovering from brain surgery or you’re having a stroke.  I consider a good day to be one where I have spent every waking hour with level 5 pain, unfortunately I had been experiencing more and more days in the 7-8 range.  There is nothing more fun than having a million things to do when all you want to do is smash your head against a wall so you can pass out and get some sleep. But hey, that’s life you’ve got to play the hand you were dealt.

The first 5 months of 2017 were a blur of constantly increasing pain, fatigue and hopelessness.  All I could think of was that if I’m in this much pain now and struggling to make it through each day at the age of 50 how hellish will my life become at 60 and will I be able to handle this kind of existence at 70 and beyond.  I was now fighting a battle on two fronts.  Not only did I have to fight through the pain, I had to fight as hard as I could to keep my old nemesis depression from taking me over again, I could feel it trying to creep back into my life, trying to make me miserable.  Depression had almost ruined my life once – well probably more than once – and there was no way I was going to let it get me again.  Luckily when I was in my 20’s through therapy and research I learned tricks to occupy my brain to keep depression at bay so I had been winning the fight.

Then along comes June 1, 2017.  During the afternoon I had a headache unlike any I had ever had before, I can’t even really describe it other than to say it was almost electrical in nature, it was bizarre.  I was also having bouts of dizziness that I was afraid would end up with me crashing to the floor every time I stood up.  I was even getting dizzy spells when I was sitting at my desk working.  As usual I just ignored the pain and the increased dizziness and pushed on through the work day.  Later that evening it happened…I was sitting next to my wife in a camping chair watching our daughter play softball when the strangest feeling came over me.  I felt startled and somewhat confused as I began to realize that something very, very different was happening in my head.  The dizziness was gone and I DIDN’T HAVE A HEADACHE!!!  For the first time in forever I wasn’t in pain. I wanted to jump up and down and scream the good news to everyone but at the same time I was so afraid that I’d jinx myself that I didn’t even say anything to Joyce about it.  That night I laid awake as long as I could, I wanted to experience this new painlessness for as long as I could.  Unfortunately that was my only pain free day but since then most of my days have been a level 3 or less, it’s like I have a new lease on life.  Of course me being me I tend to push myself so I’ll do stuff I shouldn’t do like mow and trim the lawn by myself or move heavy objects and end up with level 7 or 8 headaches, but the next day they are usually down to a 3 or 4 followed by a few days of 2 or 3.  Sometimes I’ll even get a few hours of level 1 which is AWESOME!  There are still things that trigger worse pain like bending over, sneezing, coughing, and pooping but the increase in pain only lasts from a few minutes to a few hours not the entire day like before. 

By now you must be asking yourself “how did this happen”? Remember my last post about forgetting my meds; well I did remember to take my new prescription with me.  Dr. Boor decided to try adding Cymbalta to my Lyrica.  Cymbalta gets a bad rap because it can cause some bizarre and dangerous side effects; luckily the only thing it has done to me is cause dry mouth.  After taking the Cymbalta for a week and finally getting back on the Lyrica the drug combo started working.  Besides helping decrease the headache pain Cymbalta has also had another great effect on me…Calmness.  I’m no longer the rage fueled lunatic I was, I’ve lost the road rage which was getting worse by the day, hell I don’t even tailgate like I used to anymore.  The years of constant pain had raised my anxiety levels so high that I had become explosive.  As an example, I would knock something over on my desk as I was reaching for something else and the rage would take over, something as simple as that would make me go completely mental.  It didn’t take much to turn me into a swearing-crazed-angry-monster. 

We all know nothing is forever and I don’t k now how long this drug combo will continue to work, but I’m going to do my best to enjoy every second of feeling better for as long as it does work.

Long Weekend!

Memorial Day Weekend 2017 will certainly be a memorable looooong weekend for me.  It was the longest long weekend I have ever experienced; I’m not even sure how to sum it up other than to say “Fuck Me!!!! I never want to go through that living hell again”.   Living with Chiari I thought I knew what pain was, I thought I knew how to fight and smile through it like nothing was wrong.  Well, my body had one other trick up its proverbial sleeve, one I didn’t see coming, one that kicked my ass in ways I never dreamed of.  If I was given a choice between kidney stones and what I went through Memorial Day weekend I’d chose the kidney stones every single time.  I know that by now you’re thinking “enough already get on with the story Chiari boy” and “what the heck could be so bad that you’d rather have kidney stones?”  Sorry for not getting right to the point of the story (ha, ha, no I’m not); I’m just trying to figure out how to present what happened.  Think of this as a “stream of consciousness” writing exercise…damn-it now it’s just a stream of F-bombs I better cut off this writing exercise.

Ok I’m back.  I started this yesterday and took the night off so I could come up with the best way to tell this story.  It’s going to be a long one and will probably ramble a bit, sorry

It all started on Wednesday May 24^th.  I had a follow up appointment with my neurologist to see how the Botox was working and what my pain levels were (this will be another story so stay tuned).  My doctor askes that patients bring all of their med’s with them, so like a good little patient I loaded all of my goodies into an appropriately sized Zip-Lock bag and off I went.  I bet you can see where this is going.  Sure enough Wednesday night I grabbed my little pill organizer to take my bedtime Lyrica and realized I needed to reload it.  Ut-oh no sign of my med’s in my office –where I keep everything – or anywhere else in the house.  That sinking feeling started to come over me as I checked every cubby and storage bin in the van and there was no sign of my med’s.  Ugh I left them at the neurologist’s office, and I cursed them for it.  I mean why do they have people with brain problems bring stuff with them that they will most likely forget to take back home with them?  At this point there was no panic, I knew I’d be able to call the Thursday to make sure they found my baggie and then I could make the half-hour drive pick them up. 

I called Thursday morning and got the “Office is Closed” message, I could feel the panic begin to wash over me, but I pushed it away.  They have weird hours because the Doc has to make rounds at the hospital so I called back Thursday afternoon and heard the message again, my heart sank.  I convinced myself that perhaps they were always closed on Thursday, but I could feel the panic really taking hold.  Thursday night is when the hellish symptoms began to kick in with my jumpy legs and arms keeping me up all night.  Friday finally rolls around and they are still closed, at this point the panic got the best of me and I was freaking out.  All I could think was “I’m so fucked”. You see Lyrica may be a “non-narcotic” pain agent that also calms muscle spasms but the withdrawal symptoms are “hell on earth”.  Most people take the 75mg tablet a few times a day so there isn’t much if any info on what happens when you stop taking it.  I take the 200mg tablets 3 times a day so when I stopped taking it because I was out my body began to react and it really really sucked.  By Friday afternoon every muscle in my body hurt, my legs began their spasm dance and I couldn’t stop sweating.  Another sleepless night as my legs tormented me and it felt like it was 100 degrees in our bedroom even though we keep the AC at 72 at night.

Saturday was more of the same except the muscle pain changed.  It began to feel like my arm and leg muscles were trying to tear themselves from the bone, and my joints began to hurt.  Every movement, every step resulted in a searing pain I never want to feel again.  Luckily I’m highly trained at hiding the degree of pain I’m in so I think I was able to keep the kids from knowing how bad it was and I did my best to do whatever the family wanted to do.  Saturday night was a replay of the previous two nights, tossing and turning and legs jumping, not even sleeping pills helped me get to sleep.

Thankfully sleep found its way to me Sunday, I fell asleep on the couch that afternoon.  According to my wife and daughter my legs were going crazy the whole time.  Sunday evening we went to our friend’s house for a BBQ.  All I had to do was carry a tray of watermelon from our house to their house which is only two houses up from ours.  That tray made my elbows and wrists feel like they were being pulled from my body, by the time we got to their house I wanted to scream and maybe cry a little bit but I was able to shove the pain down and pretend I didn’t feel like I wanted to curl up in a corner and rock myself to sleep.  I’m sure I was an absolute blast to be around that night, but hey I tried.  Even worse than the pain was that there was all of this delicious food and I had zero appetite.  I was hoping beer would distract me from my predicament but all that did was make me feel like crap – so sad.

Ah Monday…All I could think about was that I was one day closer to Tuesday and picking up my Lyrica and getting my life back.  There was also a bit of terror that kept rising within me that maybe they were closed for the entire week for vacation.  We went fishing with our friends Monday which at first I dreaded because I was in so much pain, but it turned out that the constant help required by our kids trying to fish kept my mind off it.  By the end of the day I was starting to feel human again, still in a lot of pain but not as much as the last few days.  Maybe it was because I knew – make that hoped – that I only had to get through one more night of crazy jumping legs and arms and painful muscles.

Tuesday…Woohoo!!! I was never so glad for a long weekend to be over and to be back at work.  At exactly 9:00am the doc’s office called to tell me that I had left my med’s there.  I so wanted to say [sarcasm on] ‘no shit, I never noticed’ [sarcasm off], but I said thank you and told them I’d be over later to get them.  I spent the rest of the day totally distracted and praying for time to speed up so I could get there and take my Lyrica. It was like I was some kind of fiend waiting for my next hit.   At last I was able to break away from the work day and go get my med’s.  As soon as I could I downed the first Lyrica of the day, I’m pretty sure I heard angels singing as I swallowed it.  By the time I went to bed my trip through hell was over and I immediately fell asleep, again I think I heard that choir of angels singing me to sleep.  From now on, the neurologist gets a printout of my med’s or maybe empty bottles because I forget everything unless I set a reminder on my phone or a Post-it note in my office.  I also learned that if they ever want me off the Lyrica they will have to ween me off of it because cold-turkey might kill me next time.

I have a whole lot of news and catching up to do so there will be another post shortly.