Damage to the Voice

In early May I started coughing. This wasn't my usual, asthmatic bronchial spasming kind of cough. It was just as intense and out of control, but it didn't seem to be coming from my chest, and I had no shortness of breath. It was bad. Embarrassing bad. It kept me awake, it kept others awake, it kept me in my hotel room a couple of afternoons in NY napping so I could make it through the evening's performances without getting myself thrown out of the theatre (with the aid of constant cough drops and bottles of water, I did okay from start to intermission, then from intermission to end).

Antibiotics, steroids, multiple doctor visits, and five weeks later I was still coughing, but I woke up with a new symptom--no voice.

Three weeks later still, and I am hoarse, and the otolaryngologist tells me I have a nodule on my right vocal fold, caused by the coughing (though I have some suspicion that the forming nodule may have caused the cough, and the two kept working on each other sans proper diagnosis for a few weeks, but that's another matter). He also tells me my voice may be permanently impaired.

My voice may be permanently impaired.

Let's set aside the importance of speaking to little things I do to earn a living--like teaching lecture classes--and get to the heart of this problem: I love the human voice, and I rather like mine.

The actors I admire the most are the ones especially gifted/skilled vocally. I think nothing is more glorious than a song sung in a strong and sweet voice. Nothing. The joy that is the American Musical is predicated on the illusion that we, too, could burst into beautiful song at any moment while we are sweeping the floor or walking in the rain. The young actors I see at school have much to learn, but nothing eludes most of them more than understanding the power of the human voice and how to use it.

A few months ago, some strangers told me after hearing me speak in public that I should do voice over work professionally. I have been thinking about that, and had recently made a call to a friend who is a pro to ask how I might go about pursuing such work. Folks who have known me longer have long encouraged me to get into radio, and I have dabbled a bit there. The voice. My voice. A good voice.

I said I was going to get to the heart of this, but I'm dancing around it. I want my voice back. I was angry to hear the Dr. say "you damaged your voice with all of that coughing," then tell me to sip water instead of coughing. As if I had taken a knife to my vocal cords, as if I had acted stupidly by getting sick.

It never occurred to me that this voice of mine could be so fragile.