Living Life in Lip-Sync

You know what would have been difficult? Being on voice rest during the swine flu panic and having to wear a face mask.

Drum Roll Please….

The verdict is in, I’m good and healthy, folks! I wandered into the doctor’s office first thing Friday morning, checked in without words and didn’t speak until the doc said, “You can talk now.” My first words, you want to know? I had planned this moment for 20 days and said, “Ok.” Yup. That’s what I said: “Ok”. I didn’t know what I even wanted to say. For three weeks I perfected the art of communicating without talking. I was always understood and always expressed; now having my voice back was genuinely confusing. I said a little more and felt tears come to the surface.

I nearly cried as I mumbled, “This is weird.” It was just an odd thing to communicate without over enunciating, waving my arms around or using my notebook. All the fear of entering the talking world sat at the surface of the lump in my throat. The appointment continued and the speech pathologist asked me about my time of silence. I told her it was easier than I thought it would be, that all my friends were amazing and supportive, and that I had enjoyed all the time to myself. She was amazed that I had gone to Magic Mountain, had blogged it all and had kept up my spirits the whole time. I, as usual, was a great student and she told me that I was the example of how to do voice rest. I smiled, as I’ve always been good at assignments.

I got my nose and throat all numbed up and she put a tube down my throat so we could take a look at the chords. They were healthy! Who knows the last time they looked like this- white and thick and clean. The cyst was gone and the function was back to 99% normal. I couldn’t believe it!

But you know what? Now’s the hard part. I had to talk into a mic that fed to a machine that calculated the pitch of my voice. It turns out that part of my problem is that my voice is naturally so low that it is hard on the chords. Also, because of poor behavior, I talk lower than I even need to which leads to a sensitive chord situation exacerbated by years of loud talking. Can you believe it? Part of my problem is that I just have a husky voice! This helps explain why I can be in the same situations as other people who won’t sound any different after talking over music or just being loud in general.

I will be going back to my speech lady a couple times a month to learn how to talk. You’d think after 30 years this skill would be on lock, but I’m a special lady with special needs. The last four days have been like a deer walking on new legs. The first day it was difficult to talk. I had to ease into a conversation and then rested my voice for 5 hours again. I quickly feel the little scratchy agitation at the back of my throat and have to lower my voice or stop talking all together. I didn’t expect talking to physically feel so different. My voice feels raspy now when it begins to fatigue. I always felt this but never understood I could make it go away by talking in a hushed voice or taking a break for an hour or two.

Over the weekend I faced my first major fear factor- a bar. How was I going to talk in this bar without yelling over the music? How was my boyfriend going to understand me if I didn’t mouth words or have my notebook? It was a near panic moment- no exaggeration. I took a deep breath, calmed down and indicated to my boyfriend that I was not going to talk. And then, I tried it- I tried talking without being loud even with music. It absolutely worked! I was so happy that an environmental noise situation was quickly averted. 

Back to work, back to life, back to talking. Now it is a matter of protecting my voice. I have to constantly monitor my pace, volume and pitch. I can’t talk too quickly, too loudly, or too deeply. It has been a matter of thinking of how I talk as I talk and tracking my breathing. I sound a bit forced and less animated as I literally figure out how to use my voice again. I have to talk at a pitch a tad higher than natural (by the way, even at a higher pitch, I’m lower than the low end of pitch for women) and really decide what words are worth sharing. And, I will be doing voice rest here and there for a day or two at a time. It’s a tool I have learned to use and it really makes a difference.

My purse was rather empty the last few days as it was missing my notebook. There was all this space I could use but it just felt as if there was something lacking. I thought the emotional aspects of this experiment would come from not talking and continue to be shocked at how I respond to verbally communicating again. Thank you for reading and following. This blog has helped keep me focused day to day and has kept my fingers and mind busy. Back to work, back to life, back to talking.

A Mute’s Glossary-

Should you ever find yourself mute here are some helpful ideas of how to get your message across:

I: point at I

Me: point at middle of chest

You: point at middle of chest of intended

He/Her: point vigorously in no particular direction to indicate it is not ‘me’ or ‘you’

Love/ Heart burn: point at heart

Think/ Dream/ Wonder: point at head

Any sort of past tense: get the person to understand the present tense of the word then point to the left to indicate ‘ed’

Hungry/ Bloated/ Constipated/ Cramping: point at tummy and make a pathetic face

Bathroom: tap bladder

Surprise/ Shock/ Heart Attack/ I’m being held at gun point: open eyes large and hold up jazz hands next to head

Tired/ bored/ lazy/ This is Lame: Lay head to one side with hands as pillows

This sucks/ I’m going to vomit: stick finger in mouth

‘I lost my voice’: point at throat repeatedly and mouth the words (editor’s note: some people who lacka  brain might mistake this for ‘I am deaf and cannot hear you so talk really loudly or not at all and it will be good’)

Money/ How much does it cost?/ That was expensive/ How much do I owe?: hold first and second fingers to thumb and move thumb up and down other fingers.

‘I am mad’: Make eyes big and move your neck around

Hear/ Listen: Pull on ear several times in a row

Any physical activity: mime it in an over exaggerated manner. You’ll be fine.

To get attention: Make loud kissing or smacking sounds or bang you open hand on a table or couch or clap your hands together loudly.

Final Full Day of Silence

Wow! For someone who didn’t talk for twenty days, I stayed incredibly busy! Today was no different and began with some swimming, a final visit to my current chiropractic intern who is graduating and exercise videos. I ran some errands, began to pack for another out of town weekend and then to dinner with AJ, M and D at a yummy Brazilian wine bar.

M was sure to let me know frequently that he ‘couldn’t hear me’ and that he really didn’t want to see me again unless I still wasn’t talking. It is love like this that has kept me going over these last three weeks. AJ shared some stories about his “Life with Harpo” as I reenacted key events and communication devices (pounding on things, making kissing sounds, clapping my hands loudly). D told me she was reading my blog and then proceeded to over-gesture then kick herself for doing what she had been warned of in her readings. It was a great night and the four of us had a great time, as usual.

AJ and I hurried out to meet his friend from Sea-Town in the Los Angeles area with some British folk. Oddly enough, AJ’s friend had also gone on voice rest several years ago due to polyps on her chords and was shocked I was even out in public as she had turned a bit reclusive during her bout of quiet. She is now my Voice Sister. Her friend also had a cousin who has gone on voice rest often so the group was well informed and wonderfully sympathetic. We were six in total and I had a great time and decided I want a British for myself. AJ says I might get one for Christmas. I hope it is potty trained upon arrival.

While at the bar, we were accosted by a very, um, unusual looking woman with an overbite that swallowed her tiny pointy chin and distracted from her bad skin and nasty locks. She thought she had a chance with the Brits and it was fun to not have to talk to her—I left that to my boyfriend instead. Shortly after, we wanted to show them the Sunset strip and went to the land of the Hollywood Douche- Saddle Ranch. To be fair, everything else was dead. AJ made it a good time by getting all of our guests to submit themselves to riding the bull. Oh poor out of towners!

Being at Saddle Ranch resulted in a few fun experiences like the man that looked at me like I had a single digit IQ for carrying my notebook in the bar and another patron asked why I had my diary with me. I also gave some vocal chord advice to the man who runs the bull as my Voice Sister informed him that I was on voice rest and he told us that he lost his voice frequently and was an actor on the side (of course). I watched him for a moment, assessed the behaviors that required modification and wrote him a note:

“Talk quieter than you think you have to while giving bull riding directions. Use gestures instead of shouting to get the crowd’s attention. This will save your voice.”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am now giving advice on this topic. I can’t help it. It’s scary what happens to your voice! We wrapped up the night, said goodnight to the Brits and my Voice Sister and headed home. I spent the remainder of the night thinking in a British accent and then dreamt all night about talking and being allowed to actually talk. I knew these were my last moments of silence, my last moments tucked away behind medical leave, a notebook, and larger-than-life gestures.