Yesterday I worked industriously on a new full-length album, my first since getting out of the hospital in July, and I managed get the first half of it wrapped up. The two halves of this one are definitely going to be demonstrably separate entities though the music is throughout a kind of attempt to bridge noise music, electronic dance music, and the legacy of the Mississippi delta blues, which has been the case as well with my recent EPs and some of my recent standalone tracks. I went to bed close to midnight, which would not have been an especially late hour when I was a younger man, but assuredly is now. I dreamt a recurring dream about the young lady in the pink Miata, which left me queasy but ambivalent. I got up around 7:00AM and started work on the second half of my new album. The first few hours of the day are when my feet are at their worst as though shocked and bitter at having to carry my body weight around. I spent a good part of the morning grinding away at producing all manner of heinous and unprecedented string instrument noise, and then at 10:40 I went and had blood work done so that my family doctor and my psychiatrist can assess my Lithium levels (they were near toxic at the time of my hospitalization, likely because I kept taking my meds in the preceding period but almost completely stopped eating). While I was at the doctor’s office I inquired about a pair of referrals my doctor was supposed to make on my behalf, one to the Calgary Foot Care Nurses to help with the necrotic tissue pain and corns, the lingering repercussions of very bad frostbite, and the other to a urologist on account of my phimosis (tightening of the foreskin, for those not in the know). Today I was given the number for the urologist and the likelihood is that they will need to operate. There is only one operation for this condition: circumcision. I’m certainly not jazzed at the prospect of having that operation, and few uncircumcised men would be, but at this point in my life it does seem pretty minor next to all the other wretched and heartbreaking stuff that has brought me to where I am. I am inspired by the fortitude my uncle George has demonstrated these past few year, first losing an eye to cancer and then very recently surviving brain surgery with a smile on his face and an optimistic outlook overall. After leaving the doctor’s office and taking everything into consideration, I decided I’d go ahead and treat myself to eggs Benedict at OEB in Mission. Goddammit, sometimes you need to spoil yourself…
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