Aging is full of surprises. I haven't found any good surprises yet, but I'm optimistic that one or two will come along in the course of this necessary journey. I also am looking for serendipities. I know they happen from time to time and I sure don't want to miss one if it should pass by.
I say all this to lay the groundwork for my declaration that much of what I have experienced so far isn't all that good. The first that happened was with my larynx, my vocal cords.
I used to sing a lot. I sang in college choirs, church choirs and I directed children's choirs; I sang in large groups and small groups. I sang both sacred and secular music. But that ended in the early 70s when life changed direction on me and I became involved in other things, different but good too. Then a few years ago at a birthday party, I was merrily singing "Happy Birthday" along with the rest of the crowd when the notes accompanying the line "Happy Birthday dear....." fell apart in my throat and nothing but croaking came out. Luckily I wasn't doing a solo! To say the least, I was astonished, but at that time I just figured my problem was from disuse.
Later, after I retired I joined a ukulele club and learned very quickly that I could no longer sing along with my playing. I discovered I had a singing range of about 3 notes. This was mightily distressing, and the leader didn't believe me when I said I couldn't sing along with everyone else. I finally compensated by just mouthing the words while I played so she would stop nagging me. Ultimately I left the group and gave away my uke because it wasn't much fun without being able to sing along.
Two years later I began experiencing a raspy voice, not all the time, but often enough that I thought I'd better make sure I didn't have a polyp on my vocal cords. Dr. Bloom, an ENT, did a thorough inspection by wrapping some gauze around my tongue and stretching my tongue out of my mouth nearly down to my belly-button so he could see EVERYTHING! (Needless to say, this was a strange exam!).
The upshot of the matter is that he diagnosed thickening of the vocal cords due to aging. He said not everybody ages this way, but some do. (I thought of all those old ladies that had what I always called "whiskey voices" and wondered if I had rushed to judgment on them!). He said the condition couldn't be reversed but could be slowed down by cutting out all caffeine, cold drinks, alcohol, by keeping the body hydrated so that there is enough fluid available to make it to the vocal cords, and to learn to talk slowly, softly, smoothly and from the diaphragm. He sent me to a speech therapist, where I discovered that if I did what all she advised, I would be totally devoid of any personality! (It also is hard to totally hydrate yourself when you are also taking a diuretic!)
Anyway, I did what I could to make the necessary changes. It was hard to relearn speaking. I forgot sometimes, and other times just decided not to talk at all for a while. I tried to always keep in mind that in the scheme of things this was a very very minor problem, for which I was supremely grateful. Now, 9 years after that diagnosis, I find that the condition has pretty much stabilized, and since I don't interface with people all day at work like I did before retirement, it usually doesn't get to the point of being raspy except on occasion. When I give talks, I always must make sure to have a bottle of water nearby so that if my voice needs it, I can give it a shot of water now and then to get me through the talk.
My mother never talked to me about aging. But even if she had, she wouldn't have told me about this because it wasn't on her horizon. It is "just one of those things" - irritating but manageable. One thing the doc advised me and that has kept me in good stead is sucking on Hall's "Breezers," a non-metholated cough-drop which helps moisturize my throat. Breezers have been a life-saver on occasions and I always make sure I have a stash in the car, in my purse, and of course at home in the candy jar.
I say all this to lay the groundwork for my declaration that much of what I have experienced so far isn't all that good. The first that happened was with my larynx, my vocal cords.
I used to sing a lot. I sang in college choirs, church choirs and I directed children's choirs; I sang in large groups and small groups. I sang both sacred and secular music. But that ended in the early 70s when life changed direction on me and I became involved in other things, different but good too. Then a few years ago at a birthday party, I was merrily singing "Happy Birthday" along with the rest of the crowd when the notes accompanying the line "Happy Birthday dear....." fell apart in my throat and nothing but croaking came out. Luckily I wasn't doing a solo! To say the least, I was astonished, but at that time I just figured my problem was from disuse.
Later, after I retired I joined a ukulele club and learned very quickly that I could no longer sing along with my playing. I discovered I had a singing range of about 3 notes. This was mightily distressing, and the leader didn't believe me when I said I couldn't sing along with everyone else. I finally compensated by just mouthing the words while I played so she would stop nagging me. Ultimately I left the group and gave away my uke because it wasn't much fun without being able to sing along.
Two years later I began experiencing a raspy voice, not all the time, but often enough that I thought I'd better make sure I didn't have a polyp on my vocal cords. Dr. Bloom, an ENT, did a thorough inspection by wrapping some gauze around my tongue and stretching my tongue out of my mouth nearly down to my belly-button so he could see EVERYTHING! (Needless to say, this was a strange exam!).
The upshot of the matter is that he diagnosed thickening of the vocal cords due to aging. He said not everybody ages this way, but some do. (I thought of all those old ladies that had what I always called "whiskey voices" and wondered if I had rushed to judgment on them!). He said the condition couldn't be reversed but could be slowed down by cutting out all caffeine, cold drinks, alcohol, by keeping the body hydrated so that there is enough fluid available to make it to the vocal cords, and to learn to talk slowly, softly, smoothly and from the diaphragm. He sent me to a speech therapist, where I discovered that if I did what all she advised, I would be totally devoid of any personality! (It also is hard to totally hydrate yourself when you are also taking a diuretic!)
Anyway, I did what I could to make the necessary changes. It was hard to relearn speaking. I forgot sometimes, and other times just decided not to talk at all for a while. I tried to always keep in mind that in the scheme of things this was a very very minor problem, for which I was supremely grateful. Now, 9 years after that diagnosis, I find that the condition has pretty much stabilized, and since I don't interface with people all day at work like I did before retirement, it usually doesn't get to the point of being raspy except on occasion. When I give talks, I always must make sure to have a bottle of water nearby so that if my voice needs it, I can give it a shot of water now and then to get me through the talk.
My mother never talked to me about aging. But even if she had, she wouldn't have told me about this because it wasn't on her horizon. It is "just one of those things" - irritating but manageable. One thing the doc advised me and that has kept me in good stead is sucking on Hall's "Breezers," a non-metholated cough-drop which helps moisturize my throat. Breezers have been a life-saver on occasions and I always make sure I have a stash in the car, in my purse, and of course at home in the candy jar.
Who would ever think that vocal cords would get all stiff and out of shape? Certainly not me! Yes, I miss singing and I miss playing my ukulele, but this is just one of those little adjustments that aging requires. But please, if you hear my voice rasping away, know that it is NOT a whisky voice you are hearing. Rather, it is simply the sound of aging.
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