I lost my voice & began to listen better

In my late 20s I was tour-guiding during the day and singing many nights.  It was great fun, ok money,… and I was abusing my vocal cords. I had a powerful singing voice, was too excited and busy to pay attention to details, “had worked hard before, so I didn’t need to as much now” (wrong), rarely warmed up before singing… and for 4 months/year, I had to breathe aerolized steroids to be able to speak or sing. God only knows why I didn’t seriously consider vocal rest for those three years. I wasn’t listening to my body. Most months were fine, a few days, I was lucky if I sounded like Marge Simpson (although with warm tea, my voice would return as the day went on). But there were days I couldn’t get anything out, and actually had to write. I remember one visit to the bank, when I got to the teller, I tried to force out the 4 key words, and couldn’t get beyond a croak.

In my second week of graduate school, I lost my voice again. I had just moved to the USA, was getting to know my classmates, was excited and probably low on sleep. It wasn’t a great time, socially or academically, to not be able to speak. This time, I went to the doctor, and for the next 6 months, I had vocal therapy. I learned how to use my voice properly and got drilled into remembering the basics -stay hydrated, get enough sleep, avoid loud places, speak at the right volume and your pitch (many people will speak at a lower pitch to command authority; this hurts the vocal cords). I had developed nodes, kind of like callouses, on my vocal cords, which inhibited their vibration (ie making sound easily) – not surprising given their overuse. Surgery was an option with an uncertain outcome (Julie Andrews lost her voice, as did other well known singers, although some were cured), and vocal therapy might be sufficient. For those 6 months, I had to stop singing, could speak for a maximum of one hour a day, and no more than 10 minutes at a time.

So, I was forced to, or became able to listen and observe much more, knowing I didn’t have to respond. I paid more attention to facial expressions, tone of voice and body language, things I had done growing up overseas, and now again, I thought more before I spoke, because I was only allowed a few words each day. In some ways, I got to know many of my classmates even better than I might have without the forced quiet and focus. And, I became more reflective in general.

These days, I know how to take care of my voice, the nodes have almost disappeared, I warm up every time I’ll sing more than one song, and I’ve only lost my voice a few days across the last 15+ years. But those six months definitely changed me, I think for the better. I am still enthusiastic, but more introverted than pre-treatment. I still observe expressions and body language of people, take more care choosing my words, and often prefer to listen more than speak. It took me time and frustration to settle into being more quiet, especially in that new stage in life. But the challenges do oftentimes make us better, and it was a good time for me to learn how to listen more.