Can You Hear Me Now?

About three weeks ago I sanded the ceiling in our living room which I had previously spackled (yes, I wore a mask). Later that night, I played with Christian at Cowgirl Seahorse for our Ruination Day gig. The next morning my voice was gone, and the following three weeks would be a lesson in futility. I’m also pretty sure I got coxsackie from Sophie, and the pollen count had been astronomical the last few weeks. Either way, my throat and tongue have been suffering a great deal for a while. I’ve been using ibuprofen, gargling with salt water, drinking tea with honey, steaming, urgent care, etc.

Cue the catastrophizing: “I’ll never sing again”, “I’ve got nodes”, “my life is over”. It’s crazy how quickly we jump to the most damaging conclusions when faced with problems. But we get reassurance from those around us when we can’t make heads or tails of a situation. I’m not sure if you know this, but a lot of my identity comes from my ability to sing. I’m not trying to say I’m the greatest singer or tooting my own horn or anything, but I find safety in the simple enjoyment of being able to sing. Singing in my house is essentially a second language. If you know us, you know we get lovingly ridiculed because singing and conversation are one in the same for us, even for the kids. So, you’ll understand my sadness when last week in a random moment in the living room, Krissy sang a line from a song, and just as I was about to reply with the next line like a reflex, I couldn’t. It was painful. I couldn’t communicate with my best friend.

As I’m writing this, I can feel my voice slowly coming back, but there is a residual soreness and pain I can’t seem to shake. Perhaps it’s psychological. I don’t know. I’m hesitant to book any new gigs because I’m not confident my voice will be there. Do I wait til I feel 100%? Do I accept this condition and try to find a new way to sing? Do I avoid making a decision and wait til it becomes irrelevant? I don’t know. I have a gig with Christian at LIC Bar at the end of the month and I’m worried.

I’ll be 40 by then. Oh yeah, did I mention that? I can’t sing, and I’m turning 40 at the end of the week. I know it’s not a big deal, but something about it is making me uneasy. Probably doesn’t help that I recently watched “tick, tick… BOOM!”

I’m going to make an appointment with an ENT and see where that goes. In the meantime, thank you for reading.

-Robert