A song of the heart is a daily ritual

First in an occasional series.

Paul Cardall makes music, the kind his fans say soothes the heart and nurtures the soul. And though he may not know it, his feel for and expression of that music may have literally helped keep his tired heart beating until he receives a new one in the near future.

At age 35, Cardall's award-winning career as an LDS musician — with more than a dozen CDs and numerous public performances under his belt — has taken a sabbatical since August, when he was listed for a heart transplant after a lifelong series of surgeries, medications and therapy. Those who know of his challenge follow his blog to read the latest updates on his condition.

What they, and even he, may not realize is that a cardiologist in Baltimore has found recently that emotions aroused by joyful music have a positive impact on the function of blood vessels, which can promote heart health. That the music which provides solace for personal pain and defines his public life comes from a wounded heart makes him all the more hopeful, and curious about his future songs of the heart.

For now, his tired heart needs all the positive beats it can muster and feel — musical or otherwise.

To foster that kind of positive energy, Cardall not only soothes his mind and soul at the piano, but decided to share his medical journey with the Deseret News in an exclusive and occasional series that begins today.

Born in 1973 with tricuspid atresia, which means his heart had no tricuspid valve so blood couldn't flow from the right atrium to the right ventricle, Cardall and his family have dealt with his physical limitations from the time he took his first breath. He had open-heart surgery when he was just 22 hours old.

"They were able to repair my heart to make it work, and I spent my childhood going to the old Primary Children's Hospital in the Avenues," he recalls, sitting in an overstuffed chair with a breathing tube in his nose to help push vital oxygen through his system to ease the load on his heart. The tubing and accompanying oxygen tank have been his constant companions for nearly a year.

Doctors' visits, endless tests, surgeries and medical lingo have always been a part of his life in some fashion, yet he seems a bit wistful in remembering the childhood hospital visits.

"I have eight siblings, so it was my day to be with Mom. Then my Dad would come up, timing it just right so he got there as the doctor was able to come in," after a long day of testing and lab work. On the way home, "Mom would take me to the Hostess store. It became a tradition. It was a great time for me in my relationship with my parents."