Breakdown? Or Blog it Out?

June 28, 2015

It has been one month and three days since our Memorial Day camping weekend — the weekend that not only positively changed my life but simultaneously drowned me in dust, dirt, and second hand cigarette smoke, making my asthma take over my normal breathing patterns. I brought home a persistent two week dry cough keeping me up in the wee early hours of the night and preventing me from being able to speak a sentence without suddenly being attacked by mere phonation and appearing as one of "those" people.

After two weeks, the cough finally fizzled but my vocal cords were damaged. I suddenly had no stamina and could barely sing through a couple of songs without getting tired.

It has now been four days since I went to an ENT (one I did not necessarily trust, but a certified doctor nonetheless) who could tell me that yes, something was not pristine about my vocal cords. Nodules, she claims, or maybe mucus. She was unsure. Nonetheless, the “thing” is present. 

Again.

Today was very difficult. I had spent the entire last week resting, refraining from speaking, canceling any work related jobs, and drinking gallons of water. I finally treated myself to having company over for dinner accompanied by two glasses of wine last night. Turns out, the “thing” gets very annoyed when any kind of “fun” is to be had. It was like pushing a car bare-handed to be able to sing at church this morning -- painful and unbearable.

There is absolutely nothing like trying so hard to be patient and fully immersing yourself in a healing process only to feel worse. 

So today, I decided to lounge around, watch a sickening amount of Netflix, and feel sorry for myself. That’s all I could think to do. How the F*CK could I possibly get nodules again?! After everything I went through in the last two years — after making a complete recovery and being SO proud to say that I was "vocally sober" (if you will) for exactly 1 year and 3 months. How does it just… come back?

Okay. So, I am still feeling this way. I’m not done being angry at God and the world and those damn cigarette smokers that gave me the cough, but I have decided the only thing to do is embrace the recovery process. 

Rather than empathizing with singers who experience vocal health issues with the “I feel your pain” or “I’ve totally been there,” I’m laying it ALL out — I am there. 

Luckily, I have a very good chance of recovering quickly. My circumstances couldn’t be more perfect: I am out of school, finished teaching, am “off season” for performing, and am literally living a summer retired life. I don’t go back into heavy duty singing until September. The "thing" is very small - so small that a doctor cannot distinguish what it actually is - so, I'll take it.

In retrospect, this will just be another journey. A very frustrating one. A highly unfair one. But one that I am willing to share with other singers. 

This will purely be a detailed analysis of my recovery process — my sleeping habits, water intake, level of noise, singing abilities, practice habits, etc. 

And all I can do during this recovery process is:

• learn how to NEVER have this happen again, and 
• help others recover.

Because, frankly, if you're a singer -- any unfair shit is possible.