Megumi Kanda on Overuse
Like a lot of young trombonists, when I was seventeen, I was very motivated to be the best trombonist I could be. But, like a lot of seventeen-year-olds, I didn’t have the experience or wisdom to know how best to achieve my goal. In my senior year in high school and freshman year in college, I practiced literally as much as I could. At the time, it seemed logical to me that the best way to reach my best was to work as hard as I could, and this meant practicing whenever possible, usually around six to seven hours each day. Unfortunately, I was very mistaken to have chosen this path and, as I ended my senior year of high school and started college, I began having constant lip fatigue, stiffness, lack of response, and eventually lots and lots of pain.
I tried to just take it easy for a week in high school, and came back somewhat improved, but, without any changes in my approach, I was doomed to repeat my past mistakes. In college, I had to stop playing completely while I sought help and reevaluated my entire playing philosophy and physical set-up.
I was a freshman at the Cleveland Institute of Music, and was fortunate to be just up the street from the famed Cleveland Clinic. There I saw the renowned neurologist Dr. Richard Lederman. He was always generous, patient, supportive, and helpful. He told me what was literally painfully obvious, which was I had damaged a lip muscle from overuse. His prescription for me was six weeks of complete rest from the instrument to let the muscle heal. In my case, with a muscular injury, he told me that six weeks was what was necessary for healing, and then it was important to begin the process, no matter how slow, of returning to playing. During this time off, my lip was painful and sensitive to the touch even when I wasn’t playing. Dr. Lederman prescribed ice packs and facial massages to help. Ice I could afford, facial massages not so much. So I tried doing them myself, very gently. I don’t know if it really helped me heal, but it felt good, and I felt like I was doing something to help my own recovery.
Mentally, it can be very difficult to deal with an injury at any age, but I think it can be particularly hard when you are young. I had been working SO HARD all the time toward this goal, and suddenly I had all kinds of free time to ponder how I may never be able to play again. Free time and self-doubt do not go well together, so I tried several things to keep my mind occupied. One thing that was both a nice distraction and a calming activity was painting. And I spent lots of time in the wonderful Cleveland Museum of Art. Still, I was in school and taking classes, so I was around my classmates and seeing them work and succeed in ways that I wanted to but could not. It was a very difficult time in my life, filled with worry and doubt, but also an experience without which I would never have been professionally successful.
The first step as I returned to the trombone was to evaluate how it was I was playing, and what I needed to change. With the guidance of my teacher, Jim DeSano, I focused on several things: 1) better weight distribution of the mouthpiece between the upper and lower lip, 2) pulling the corners of my embouchure down while keeping the center relaxed, 3) improved airspeed to maximize an efficient buzz with minimal exertion. After my six weeks off, I returned to playing, beginning with three minutes at a time, three times a day. I had gone from seven hours down to nine minutes of playing per day, but I couldn’t have been happier to be on the road to recovery! Day by day, I realized I was on a better path with a healthier and more sustainable future. As I added more playing, I kept a check on my airspeed with small amounts of buzzing on the mouthpiece, kept a better balance between high and low practicing, and alternated heavy and light days of practice. I learned to listen to my body, and when I was feeling I had done too much, I took it easy. Sounds like common sense, and it is, but I had previously always tried to “power through” times when I should have rested. More had always been better, but through my injury and recovery I learned the inestimable value and beauty of efficient sound production and efficient use of time.
As I regained the ability to play through entire pieces, I still faced the hurdle of performing in front of others. It can be a daunting step to take, to see if all the changes and improvements will hold up under performance pressure. I decided I didn’t want to fear performing, so as a way of putting myself to the test I entered the biggest event I could think of, the Munich International Competition. I was certainly not playing on a level to compete for a prize, and it was not my greatest performance, but deciding to compete and performing there in Munich was a personal victory for me, and remains to this day a signpost in my musical life. From that performance on, I felt like myself again.
My injury was depressing and difficult, but it was also one of the best things to happen to me. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and wiser. Through this ordeal, I became a better musician, a better teacher, and a better person. And most importantly, I learned to appreciate every note I can play, and I remain thankful for every step of this journey!