Tag Archives: Grateful Dead

365 Days Later

One year ago today, a neurosurgery and ENT team at Upstate University Hospital took a nasal approach to remove the remnants of a craniopharyngioma (a benign tumor on the pituitary gland). It marked my sixth brain surgery since age 15.

I have fully recovered from the surgery, resuming all activities, although I still suffer occasional bloody noses and have peripheral double vision (which is likely permanent).

Photo of me last summer, after my surgery.

Vestiges of the tumor—what my neurosurgeon calls “membranes and scar tissue” still reside inside my head, as outlined in my latest MRI report:

FINDINGS:

“. . . In the right paramedian aspect of the surgical bed in the sellar/suprasellar region again seen is mass with heterogeneous enhancement which measures approximately 1.2 x 1.4 cm by my measurements.”

For now, the mass “remains grossly unchanged,” but the nature of craniopharyngiomas means the tumor will likely grow back to a point where another surgery or radiation will be required.

However, my medical condition is not the subject of this post. I just needed a brief introduction with a reference to the anniversary of my surgery.

Instead, I want to share some musical selections I listened to in the days and weeks following my surgery last summer. These songs aided me, providing succor while I recovered, propped up in bed, unable to sneeze or blow my nose, and moving gingerly around the house.

As I listened to the songs, I reflected on my life, swelling with gratitude for being alive and making gradual progress—supported by my wife, Pamela.

I think the tunes can provide positive affirmation for anyone facing adversity.

“I’m Still Standing” by Elton John

“Winning” by Santana

“Back in the High Life Again” by Steve Winwood

“Better Days” by Bruce Springsteen

More about Bruce later . . .

As someone who grew up in the 1980s, I am mesmerized by the concert footage available on YouTube. It is amazing to think you can see bands performing in 4K (some clips with multicam edits) hours after a show. When I was a kid, I listened to 95X in Syracuse after a concert by the Rolling Stones at the Carrier Dome so I could hear the DJ run down the setlist.

During The Cure’s 2023 North American tour, they played five original songs that I believe will be included in their forthcoming album, Songs of a Lost World. Two of my favorites from the new batch are “Alone” and “Nothing is Forever,” which I listened to repeatedly during my recovery. They put me in a dreamy headspace where I could forget about my health problems.

“Alone” by The Cure

“And Nothing is Forever” by The Cure

I also turned to the Grateful Dead for repeat listening during the late summer of 2023—often clicking on two tracks from the Dead’s famed 1977 concert at Barton Hall at Cornell University.

“Morning Dew” by the Grateful Dead

“Terrapin Station” by the Grateful Dead

And finally, there’s Bruce.

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were initially scheduled to perform at the JMA Wireless Dome in Syracuse in early September 2023, but the show was canceled because of Bruce’s peptic ulcer disease. It was fortunate for me because I would have been in no condition to climb the concrete steps to the upper rafters of the Dome just a few weeks after brain surgery. But I attended the rescheduled show in April 2024, and I’ll leave you with “Backstreets” (which references summer).

“Backstreets” by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band

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Late August

Today marks one month since my brain surgery. My recovery is going well, but I’m still not back to full strength.

I’ve been walking in my neighborhood to build up my stamina. I’m still using the cane I received when I was discharged from the hospital, but I hope to ditch it soon.

When I walk, I don’t listen to music or podcasts. For safety reasons, I need to hear cars approaching, and I also keep my ears open for stimulating sounds—birds, wind chimes, children playing, etc.

A lot of times, I get ideas for poems while out on my walks. Often, one line will pop into my head and start me down the path of writing a poem. Recently, I was walking and thinking about the end of August, and this line came to me: It’s always sad when summer ends. I jotted the line down in the small notebook I carry with me. After some work, this is the poem I produced:

Late August

It’s always sad when summer ends.
But avoidance of the inevitable is impossible.
And in this season of life, a little winter must come.
So I tell myself to stop being disgruntled
by summer’s death and autumn’s arrival,
and instead get to work—starting with
descending the cellar steps and bringing up
the long johns, flannel shirts, and heavy wool socks.

It’s not the greatest poem in the world. But I like that I followed the trajectory the poem wanted to take—starting with one line, then others scribbled in my notebook, followed by revisions on the computer.

So I recognize the importance of awareness and paying attention to both external and internal stimuli to use as raw material for poetry (and stories, etc.).

And this reminds me of a line from the Grateful Dead song “Scarlet Begonias” (thank you, Robert Hunter):

Once in a while, you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right …

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