That'll teach him to tour with Hanson
Singer Matthew Sweet, 60, is recovering after suffering a 'debilitating' stroke while on tour with Hanson. His team has set up a GoFundMe page for him.
ew.com
On a more serious note, this is sad. He's a great songwriter and I've been a fan since the 90s
A song from Matthew Sweet just came up on my Winamp and I've been waitin....er, wondering how he's doing. Found this:
December 6th, 2024
by Catherine Lyons for Matthew Sweet, Organizer
A note from Matthew:
I was colder than I’ve ever been and an icy sweat came from every pore. Then I heard a deafening white noise in both my ears growing, and growing and growing in volume, and my eyes started to scramble like eggs in a pan. “Call me an ambulance” I called out to Evan who was just checking us in to the Toronto hotel after a ten hour drive from Baltimore. Then I was in an ambulance and I heard a man yell, “Sir you’ve had a stroke.” I didn’t know what it meant. It seemed unreal as much of my life has. It’s hard to start here without saying how touched and humbled I am by the success of my GoFundMe page. My future would be gone without it. I stand a chance it is as simple as that. I should first of all thank Russell Carter, Cathy Lyons and everyone at Russell Carter Artist Management, because it was their idea to reach out for help. As I said before, I did not know what was happening to me at the time as I didn’t really know what a stroke was and I was alone in Canada to take in the fact that I could only see double and that I was now numb on the left side of my body and face and arm and legs and feet . I just didn’t realize how much I’d lost as I waited ten days to be given clearance from the doctors at Toronto Western Hospital, where I lay in the stroke unit waiting to be released. “Do you know where you are? What is the date? What is the year? What is your name? Where are you?” These are the things I was asked every day - “Push up with your right leg. Push up with your left leg.” I noticed there were bruises all over my left arm because it was hanging there, unable to move on its own. The only way they would let me travel back to the states was with a medical crew, on an airplane and straight into a rehabilitation hospital. The cost of all these things was already astronomical. What is mankind doing? To not make these things available as part of our culture everywhere. My wife Lisa dutifully prepared for me to enter into Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital in Omaha. It was a Madonna in Lincoln, NE where my mother spent the last years of her life, so I knew it somewhat, but I found out so much more about it and the people who work there; the Nurses, the Physical Therapists, the Occupational Therapists, the Vision Therapists, the Speech Therapists, the Doctors, the Aides and all those who made it possible for me to undergo the level of care that I did at Madonna until I came to be discharged early in December. I was given what’s called the Madonna Spirit Award by all my caregivers upon my release. “My God, I’m the least deserving ever of this award,” I thought to myself. Because I did not believe in myself, I did not understand what was happening and what these people were trying to do for me and in that way the people of Madonna are a lot like you. I was never a very good friend in my life. I never really understood others very well, as I was born bipolar and I was struggling just to stay afloat in my own body, but that’s another story. As I learned to walk, bathe, strengthen my legs, learn what hard work really was, I cried many times at my terrible fate and yet I also was so thankful for the fate I had in life, because it was a wonderful fate, and I was so lucky and found everything I wanted again and again and again. Not too many people I suppose can say that. But you have taught me what care is. Caring about others, caring about what can be done, caring about what happens. In a way, I never thought anything mattered but caring does matter and of that I now am very aware. I am very aware as I watch my wife. Lisa has to become my caregiver for the rest of our lives. I shudder to think of her fate, there is nothing I could have wanted less to happen to our future and yet happen it did and deal with it we must and we are doing the best we can day by day. I’ve lived through the day where I realized I may never play guitar again, I’ve lived through the day where I realized I may never draw a straight line again or enjoy the pasttime that developed over just the last year of my life, painting with fountain pens and coloring with dip pens and ink. I understand now what it means to need to reinvent oneself, when the self you knew before is gone, you have no other choice, you either quit or you keep going and so I feel I must keep going, and I feel a great burden to do so with such incredible support that you, many of whom I do not know, have given me. I must just say thank you to you for giving me this help. This hope I cannot feel whether I could have had on my own. I will try to make music. I will try to. I will try to make art. I will try to express myself, because that is all I have ever known and all that has ever brought me joy, throughout a life filled with more sadness than anyone could know what to do with, than any of us know what to do with, and that’s life. May you all today find a glimmer of hope and love and a future to strive toward the way you have helped me find it, every one of you.
With love and gratitude,
Matthew Sweet 12/2024
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc()/Matthew-Sweet-102224-e0bda73370144a4091d3251186d449c6.jpg)
