The Tale Of Old Fragmented Me & New Me
It wouldn’t be a real new week starting without having a medical appointment, right!?! This time, it’s on a Tuesday. Yes, it’s usually on Mondays, but I decided to change the pace a little and went full-on funky on Tuesday. Well, not really… but hey, you take comfort in whatever comes your way. So migrating from Monday to Tuesday felt like a major improvement, or was it? One thing is for sure, whatever the day it might be, there’s always something more exciting to foresee than talking about pulmonary conditions, high & low pressure metrics, body bruises, and brain activities before 9 am. Interesting feature this week: meeting the new specialist I have been redirected to, after the one who proceeded to my surgery moved back to the United States. And who says a new specialist, says a WHOLE new perspective on a former colleague patient, in that case… me.
The appointment was somehow friendly, before becoming frightening. If I high-scored on most physical tests a few weeks prior, she had all sorts of concerns when she auscultated me…
The appointment was somehow friendly, before becoming frightening. If I high-scored on most physical tests a few weeks prior, she had all sorts of concerns when she auscultated me…
– “Wow, it’s all very positive.”, I said while smiling.
She wasn’t smiling.
– “Should I be concerned?”, I asked more seriously.
– She said: “Hmmm, how can I say?”
She turned to her intern and asked him what he thought about it. I politely intervened:
– “Sorry, it’s your medical opinion that I’m truly wondering about. No offense to your pedagogical angle.”
She wasn’t smiling.
– “Should I be concerned?”, I asked more seriously.
– She said: “Hmmm, how can I say?”
She turned to her intern and asked him what he thought about it. I politely intervened:
– “Sorry, it’s your medical opinion that I’m truly wondering about. No offense to your pedagogical angle.”
She turned to me and explained – a story I heard about 100 times already; what my surgery was about, how only a handful of people were able to perform that one, that a slight “inconvenience” during the surgery can become a major life-threatening catastrophe… and that in my case, it’s been the perfect storm of all catastrophes.
She turned back to her intern and said:
– “Have you heard about a case like Mr. Foster?”
– Intern: “No, we barely know about the intervention data-wise.”
– Specialist: “Exactly, Mr. Foster is what we call a case study, both in regards to how the intervention he underwent is quite specific, and how he managed to survive all the complications the surgeon team had to manage.”
– Intern: “Ah, wow! Interesting.”
– Me: “Eh, I’m here. I can hear you guys.”
– Specialist: “Of course, of course.”
My main concern, amongst what I suddenly understood was a general state of MESSED UP CRAP, was mainly about what I’m referring to as my brain blur… a sensation of absence, slow analytic situation, and memory loss. It’s what she referred to as my brain cognitive realignment… What?!?
Specialist:
“How can I explain it simply? Some of your brain cells died during the intervention. They won’t come back, they are dead. So now, your brain needs to find new ways to get from point A to point B. Your brain score showed that you were like a “highway” before surgery, now you need to find “side roads” to get to your destination. And your brain activities are like a broken GPS looking to reroute itself at the moment. Welcome to the world of normal people.”…she said with a smile, before adding:
“Musicians and artists like you have a different way of analyzing tangible elements and are using alternative routings already. So it will take you a moment, but you should eventually feel more adequate. As for being like your former self, that’s the biggest emotional challenge, because you won’t. You need to discover your new self. It’s like an adventure.” A what?!?
You know the type of moment where you’d like to scream at the top of your lungs? That was that type of moment for me, except that I wasn’t physically able to do so. That freaking new docile me… I will have to teach him how to be more rebellious… SHIT! So she explained the tests I would have to do… and bla bla bla. I kinda zoned out a little (brain blurs are useful sometimes). She asked if I was under stress at the moment, physically, emotionally, psychologically.
I said: “Well, I’m currently recording an album after more than a year without singing. I just learned that a very significant person to me died 4 years ago and that his remains were basically thrown in the garbage. I also just learned that I was the unaware subject of a medical case study. But hopefully, I was on a new limited self-discovery adventure. Are any of those things counting in your gradation of bad stressors?”
She answered:
“Well, you still have an impressive brain rapidity and a cynical sense of humor, that is good news right there.”
She smiled. I smiled too, thinking “Watch me. That “new” whatever self has more ahead than from where it’s coming from. At least, I hope it is the case.”
So, the appointment got concluded on a lighter note: “You don’t have to worry, you’re a miracle. Be kind to yourself. You are doing great… But you have to slooooooooooowwww dowwwwwwn considerably for a few weeks. Are you in a position to take vacations?”, she asked.
To which I replied, with laughter in my voice: “I thought I had been on vacation for a year now.”
Specialist:
“No, you weren’t. You were in your initial recovery phase (pause). I wouldn’t dare ask you what you actually did during that period. You don’t seem to be the type of person who would accept to recharge and stop working.”
She turned back to her intern and said:
– “Have you heard about a case like Mr. Foster?”
– Intern: “No, we barely know about the intervention data-wise.”
– Specialist: “Exactly, Mr. Foster is what we call a case study, both in regards to how the intervention he underwent is quite specific, and how he managed to survive all the complications the surgeon team had to manage.”
– Intern: “Ah, wow! Interesting.”
– Me: “Eh, I’m here. I can hear you guys.”
– Specialist: “Of course, of course.”
My main concern, amongst what I suddenly understood was a general state of MESSED UP CRAP, was mainly about what I’m referring to as my brain blur… a sensation of absence, slow analytic situation, and memory loss. It’s what she referred to as my brain cognitive realignment… What?!?
Specialist:
“How can I explain it simply? Some of your brain cells died during the intervention. They won’t come back, they are dead. So now, your brain needs to find new ways to get from point A to point B. Your brain score showed that you were like a “highway” before surgery, now you need to find “side roads” to get to your destination. And your brain activities are like a broken GPS looking to reroute itself at the moment. Welcome to the world of normal people.”…she said with a smile, before adding:
“Musicians and artists like you have a different way of analyzing tangible elements and are using alternative routings already. So it will take you a moment, but you should eventually feel more adequate. As for being like your former self, that’s the biggest emotional challenge, because you won’t. You need to discover your new self. It’s like an adventure.” A what?!?
You know the type of moment where you’d like to scream at the top of your lungs? That was that type of moment for me, except that I wasn’t physically able to do so. That freaking new docile me… I will have to teach him how to be more rebellious… SHIT! So she explained the tests I would have to do… and bla bla bla. I kinda zoned out a little (brain blurs are useful sometimes). She asked if I was under stress at the moment, physically, emotionally, psychologically.
I said: “Well, I’m currently recording an album after more than a year without singing. I just learned that a very significant person to me died 4 years ago and that his remains were basically thrown in the garbage. I also just learned that I was the unaware subject of a medical case study. But hopefully, I was on a new limited self-discovery adventure. Are any of those things counting in your gradation of bad stressors?”
She answered:
“Well, you still have an impressive brain rapidity and a cynical sense of humor, that is good news right there.”
She smiled. I smiled too, thinking “Watch me. That “new” whatever self has more ahead than from where it’s coming from. At least, I hope it is the case.”
So, the appointment got concluded on a lighter note: “You don’t have to worry, you’re a miracle. Be kind to yourself. You are doing great… But you have to slooooooooooowwww dowwwwwwn considerably for a few weeks. Are you in a position to take vacations?”, she asked.
To which I replied, with laughter in my voice: “I thought I had been on vacation for a year now.”
Specialist:
“No, you weren’t. You were in your initial recovery phase (pause). I wouldn’t dare ask you what you actually did during that period. You don’t seem to be the type of person who would accept to recharge and stop working.”
In my brain:
– Fragments of old me: “Hey new guy, do you know what a white lie is?”
– New me: “No, I’m pure and innocent.”
– Fragments of old me: “Wonderful, we’ll be a great team. Just do as I say, everything will be just fine…”
– New me: “Oh, thank you for helping me. You are very kind…”
– Fragments of old me: “You don’t know the half of it, my new malleable friend. Now just tell Alex’s mouth to say that: “I’m living in the mountains, so it was calm and peaceful for my recovery, but I totally understand your concern. Of course, I’m pacing myself and I’m not pushing beyond my actual limited condition.”
– New me: “Is that what you call a white lie? Because what you asked me to say is totally inaccurate… I’m confused.”
– Fragments of old me: “Don’t worry about all of those details. Leave it to me and everything will be just fine!!!”
– New me: “Oh great! Are we friends?”
– Fragments of old me: “You bet we are. Trust me, I’ve been around before you a little. You’ll see, we’ll have a whole lot of fun. Trust me.”
– New me: “Cool… we are friends!!! We’re gonna do so many activities! The best friends are ready… let the adventure of self-discovery begin!”
– Fragments of old me (talking to himself): “Oh God, what have I gotten myself into this time.”
– Fragments of old me: “Hey new guy, do you know what a white lie is?”
– New me: “No, I’m pure and innocent.”
– Fragments of old me: “Wonderful, we’ll be a great team. Just do as I say, everything will be just fine…”
– New me: “Oh, thank you for helping me. You are very kind…”
– Fragments of old me: “You don’t know the half of it, my new malleable friend. Now just tell Alex’s mouth to say that: “I’m living in the mountains, so it was calm and peaceful for my recovery, but I totally understand your concern. Of course, I’m pacing myself and I’m not pushing beyond my actual limited condition.”
– New me: “Is that what you call a white lie? Because what you asked me to say is totally inaccurate… I’m confused.”
– Fragments of old me: “Don’t worry about all of those details. Leave it to me and everything will be just fine!!!”
– New me: “Oh great! Are we friends?”
– Fragments of old me: “You bet we are. Trust me, I’ve been around before you a little. You’ll see, we’ll have a whole lot of fun. Trust me.”
– New me: “Cool… we are friends!!! We’re gonna do so many activities! The best friends are ready… let the adventure of self-discovery begin!”
– Fragments of old me (talking to himself): “Oh God, what have I gotten myself into this time.”
I left the hospital more concerned than I was before getting there. It was a bit much to process before 10 am, even for 2 brains now “teaming up” to do so. Alright, what’s next?
– Fragments of old me:
“Let’s go scream, jump around, and find new vocal melodies while looking for your uncle’s remains. Just like John Lyndon sang: “Anger Is An Energy”
– New me: “But the doctor said…”
– Fragments of old me (interrupting): “No worries new friend, I know how to positively trigger my old buddy Alex. We’ve been through a whole lot worse during our partnership. It will be a great day for him. I’m here to make sure it is. I don’t know for the people around him though, but it will be pretty rockin’!”
– New me: “I’m learning so much with you… thank you.”
Note: Should I be worried that I have 2 voices talking to each other in my head… Or should I be REALLY concerned that I’m actually writing about them publicly? You tell me.
– Fragments of old me:
“Let’s go scream, jump around, and find new vocal melodies while looking for your uncle’s remains. Just like John Lyndon sang: “Anger Is An Energy”
– New me: “But the doctor said…”
– Fragments of old me (interrupting): “No worries new friend, I know how to positively trigger my old buddy Alex. We’ve been through a whole lot worse during our partnership. It will be a great day for him. I’m here to make sure it is. I don’t know for the people around him though, but it will be pretty rockin’!”
– New me: “I’m learning so much with you… thank you.”
Note: Should I be worried that I have 2 voices talking to each other in my head… Or should I be REALLY concerned that I’m actually writing about them publicly? You tell me.
