My Phantom Voice

I recently had my third set of Botox injections, to help me cope with this voice disorder. Not much has changed except my attitude toward having the Botox. With a slight increase in the past few dosages, I find relief in communicating, just as it's probably a relief for those who hear me. 

The other day my mother-in-law, who has been a double amputee for a number of years, told us that her ankle had been hurting. Familiar with the phantom limb syndrome, I realized that I often wake up with, what I consider, a phantom voice. Not knowing if I'll be able to speak clearly without my voice spasming, I have the sensation that my voice is as clear as what it had been. Perhaps it's the hope that my voice will function properly again, though doctors have told me otherwise. 

As I work with children, I continue to be amazed at their resiliency.  They can have such capacity to overcome hurdles and compensate for shortcomings. When my voice is clear, the children respond as if it's always like this, easy to understand. When it's not, we laugh at 'my silly voice' yet they don't give up listening. It's the hope for the resiliency of our youth that we need to hold on to, for life is change. My current dilemma is whether I should speak as much as I can when the Botox gives me a clear voice, or use my voice sparingly to stretch out the time that it's in my system. A permanent change might not be on the horizon, but temporary relief is a blessing.

My Thanksgiving

Well, it's been nearly two weeks since my first Botox injection. Every morning I wake up hoping that my voice disorder hasn't returned, yet. The fact is that I'm taking a remedy, which I know is different from a cure. Even though I was told to make an appointment for a follow-up visit, another round of injections in three months, I now have hope that maybe I can control my spasmodic dysphonia. I have renewed concentration in vocal exercises,which I learned from past therapists/practitioners/readings. Feedback from others(family, colleagues, children and parents at school) is positive and encouraging. I can totally empathize with those who have an illness or condition that appears and the frustration and hopelessness that can follow. I am also thankful for the strength to be accepting and keep going.

Now for Botox....

Well, after struggling with spasmodic dysphonia for 3 ½ years, I have no more alternative remedies to try ….. and I’m tired of this. So, I decided to take my (primary)doctor’s suggestion and go back to the UCLA ENT for Botox injections. I’ve been reluctant for a number of reasons, but at this point, I’m ready to try medical intervention.

Yesterday I had my first Botox injection. Rather, my first two injections, one on each side of my larynx. The two marks looked fitting for upcoming Halloween … like a vampire bite, but they’ve already faded. The doctor was very thorough, telling me of possible side effects. It will take some time to see if the dosage is right since he considered my voice disorder to be fairly severe on the scale of voice disorders.

So, I’m hopeful, as is my family. My throat/voice feels no different, but then it never did. It’s not until I try and speak that the condition becomes apparent.

As I’ve tried to teach my children, there’s always a lesson to be learned. This challenge has reinforced something that I’ve often shared with teachers, the importance of speaking directly to others (esp. children). Forget shouting room to room or across a room, the communication loses its value. Speaking face to face, within a short distance, is the most effective way to verbally communicate. Then, of course, a lesson that my husband is probably very happy that I’ve come to better understand….. no point in saying inconsequential things, save the talk for what’s important and at the right time, when there’s not competition from other sources (such as a basketball or baseball game that’s on television). 

I’ll keep you posted….