The most amazing thing in life, when you like connecting with others, is how you become friends with the most improbable of all people. In my case, that theory doesn’t apply much, as I had the great privilege of making friends with people from all spheres of life already. But I must say that I wasn’t expecting to become that close to my cardiologist and his family when I first met him about a year ago, a first encounter that led me to invite them all to record songs at my studio, as he had assembled a band with his wife and kids during COVID, a band composed of a 7-year-old drummer, an 11-year-old bassist, a 13-year-old pianist, a singer in her early 20s, his wife at the acoustic guitar and him at the electric one… WHAT?! The story is too long to share in that daily post, but it’s an incredible one. He shared with me about his faith, how he turned his life around, how his parents fled Vietnam with him when he was a 3-year-old kid during the war, his human rights activities, and so on. We really connected, so it became more of a friendship than a patient-doctor type of relationship. Before I started my second day of tests, we met at Starbucks. He took a day off to accompany me – talk about a benevolent gesture. Having more time, I was able to address the psychological aspect of the surgery with him and shared things I never talked about with anyone; my “absence” or “desynchronization” as I call them (fans of the Assassin’s Creed video games will understand!) He was incredibly comforting and patient in explaining what I truly went through; cerebral micro embolism. WHAT? Wait. Psychological trauma is one thing, but now that micro-WHAT? “It’s called embolism, Alex.” That micro embolism thing happens when you are plugged into a machine to keep you alive for too long and have to be given a large amount of replacement blood (or something like that), and in my case, both situations occurred during my intervention, so it explains why I’m forgetting words, names or events. I know them, my brain is just not able to fetch the information. No big deal… WAIT, it is some kind of a big deal. I had to go on the internet to find the name of a famous poet and musician from Montreal because I wasn’t able to remember Leonard Cohen’s name. Leonard Cohen, as in the name after which I named one of my pups. Scary stuff. The good news is that it will come back. I only have to avoid being under stress and stay away from pressured situations. That would mean I need to sleep for a year or something because my whole life IS stressful and lived under pressure. So please, guys, don’t be mad or disappointed if I don’t remember your name when I see you. I’m still struggling to remember words such as chair, dining room, rest, and brain vacations. I do remember more high notes, more feedback, louder, no that’s not it, nothing is going on and let’s add another layer. So, I’ll be ok to let go during the upcoming album production. Whew, that was a close call. What would my music be without guitar feedback and my sonic shenanigans?

The rest of the tests consisted of running on a treadmill with an inclination and it went well. I had a heart and lung echograph, it went ok. The surgery being an unlikely success, the healing process needs to be monitored more closely. The donor’s graft degraded a little too fast (what was that bad donor’s name again? 😉 ) In medical terms, that result sucks a little – and is not what was wished for or expected – so I need to adjust the dose of my meds again, and this time on the rise. Hurray, thanks for the dizziness and vision blur for helping me focus on what we can see or hold on to creatively. Thank you, Doctor. Another interesting fact is that I will never be able to lift 50 pounds or more for the rest of my life. It sounds like very good news considering the number of gear cases I usually have to carry around on tour. “Sorry bro, I would like to help, but I can’t. My heart condition, you know.” That’s not bad at all. And when I don’t want to do something I could simply go: “What? You asked me to do that, really? Ah, sorry bro, I forgot, the effects of cerebral micro embolism, you know. Too much stress and pressure… It will take some time, still.” So yes, it’s not that bad after all! It could have been worse… like hearing the specialist say “Oh!!!” the second she looks at her x-ray screens. So, all in all, it was a good day. I ended up going back to Starbucks with my cardiologist-brother. We talked for an additional hour together, about life, faith perspectives, emotional stressors, and psyche affliction. He told me it was ok to be fragile once in a while, that I couldn’t control everything no matter how hard I tried, and that it was important to talk to someone. Upon hearing that, I spontaneously opened up about how damaged and solitary I have been feeling ever since MacKaye passed. I cried, held it back, failed to hold it back, cried again… “You are tired, Alex, you need to go easy on yourself. The world could turn without you spinning everything around for a day or two – or some more.” His loving compassion towards me was deeply liberating. We encouraged each other before leaving. I ended up reminding him he had to come to the studio to record with his family band before we go to Cologne all summer. We hugged, and even if I was exhausted from all the physical, psychological, and countless blood tests, it was a positive sensation for me. I had the conviction that I was heading home not only with overall good news but also with a better understanding of my emotional and psychological condition, which I was truly worried about for the 2 days prior. The body heals faster than the spirit does… We all have invisible wounds. It’s ok to seek help and we have to keep pressing on when nobody seems to care about our call for help; someone definitely will.

I shared every detail of my day the minute I got back with the others, insisting on the no-more-lifting-gear part, repeating several times that I had to avoid the stress of being contradicted or confronted about my ideas in the studio to be able to heal my cerebral micro embolism, and that the healing process would take a very long time. “A few more record productions,” the specialists said. I know they might read this or even talk with my cardiologist friend to validate, but what can I say…? “Sorry, I don’t recall having said that at all. Have I? Really? No, I don’t remember that. Must be the micro embolism.” 😉