There are a number of things that make me gag. Expired sandwich meat, my ex-boyfriend's stinky feet, seeing someone barf, smelling barf, thinking about barf...I have a seriously weak stomach so, I could go on forever. Surprisingly, one thing that does not provoke my gag reflex is having a camera fed through my nose and shoved down my throat! Where is the logic?
For the past 4 months I have had an unusually scratchy voice. I have to admit that it began when I started working at Cowboys. At first it didn't bother me. Actually, I kind of thought it made me sound tough like, "What? This voice? Pfff! No big deal. I work a lot. I strain my voice and don't sleep. What of it?". Some people even thought it sounded cute like, "Awe! Poor little Stephie just doesn't get enough rest, and now she has a small ouchie in her voice!". Whether it was bad-ass or baby-like, my voice was draining more and more each week.
After a couple of months I almost got used to it. But while I may have not noticed it as much, in the back of my head I still wondered if I was actually injuring myself. After 3 months of listening to my scratchy/whiny/super annoying voice, my sister Jody (she's a nurse) scared me into going to the doctor.
You could need surgery Stephanie. What if your voice is messed permanently? You know you could have throat cancer!
As alarming as these possibilities were, they were also pretty easy to ignore when coming from my sister. A talent I had perfected many moons ago. So although my doctor had referred me to a ENT specialist, I still chose to brush it off as no big deal. But as the appointment drew closer and closer, I started to think about how important my voice really is to me.
Last night I laid in bed, tossing and turning at the traumatizing thought of losing my voice. Not being able to vocalize my opinions, and needs, and wants...to state what I am thinking, my ideas, my reasons. No singing, laughing, shouting, swearing...not having my personality heard! The simple suggestion of such was enough to make me hurl.
BLEEEEECK!
I literally threw up. Just a little...in my mouth...but it happened. My gag reflex was shining a whole new light on the situation. This was a big deal. A big freaking deal. This was MY voice. This was ME! It was the thought of losing myself that made me physically sick. Although I'm sure that I was pulling a classic Stephanie by over-thinking the situation, it made me at least in that moment a little more thankful for my voice and the right to use it. I even re-considered voting next time around, just because I want to be heard.
When I met with the specialist this morning, the first thing he asked was, "Stephanie, are you a talker? Do you like to talk a lot?". My answer, accompanied by a huge grin, was not just "yes", but "hell yes!". So I let that doctor shove that camera up and down and around my nose to take a look at my voice inside. I didn't gag. I didn't shake. My eyes didn't even water. I felt like a Born Again Vocalist, and no procedure is too intrusive when it comes to the sanctity of MY voice.
Thankfully everything turned out just fine, because I have my doubts that any sign language professional could teach me to sign at the speed that I speak.
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