Music is a part of so many peoples lives. For me, music is a part of what makes me whole. From as long as I can remember my parents would sing a lullaby type song as we drifted to bed. ( My mom more than my dad, but both did) I loved the jingles from kids shows, and Disney music, and carols at Christmas, nursery rhymes. As I grew older songs in school, singing in church, Sunday School, the radio, records, CDs. Now my goodness I can pop ion Pandora or IHEART RADIO  and make my own favorites into a station. I love, totally love music. ( I am not a RAP, symphony, classical music lover) But all else- pretty much are right up my music filled soul.

This past Sunday  I sang in church for “special music”. Special music is what a person chooses to do, there have been clarinet, saxophone, and other instruments solos, sometimes a duet will be done, sometimes a solo. It is something I can do in a contribution to the church. As I sing I am reminded of how awful it was when I had my voice taken away from me. Music and singing make me whole. Back in the late 1990s, well a very arrogant, barbaric doctor took my voice from me.

I needed an upper endoscopy because I was having food stick when I swallowed sometimes. I chose this man because he had been doing dilatations of my mom’s esophagus for yrs. She had Barret’s Esophagus and I was not sure if I did too. She used to call me after her procedure and would dreadfully say she had to go back in 6 mos- of in a yr. She never liked to go to doctors, so I figured that was why she said that.

The day of the procedure- it was winter, slushy, cold out. I had a winter coat and boots on. He had me leave my boots on, no patient gown, he left me in my street clothes, and he had me get on this stretcher. No one else was in the room. There was no IV or anything to relax me, he pulled my shoulder to get me in an upright position,  sprayed the back of my throat with a couple squirts of novocaine and literally jammed the endoscopic tube down my throat, if I gagged he smirked and jammed harder. He pulled it out and I was beyond terrified at the treatment, trying my best not to cry, and not believing this sadistic look he had. He said he had to put down a pediatric scope with a balloon end to stretch a stricture area. I indicated I couldn’t go through that again, but he said it is a smaller scope and will be easier. No more novocaine and in went the next scope, jamming at each gag and smirking all the way.

When he finished, he twisted me around, legs facing him and said ” So how do you like me now?” It was like he enjoyed how he treated me. I have no idea why he was like that, but if he was like that with others, I finally understood the dread in my mom’s comments as she realized when her next appointment was.

A few days later I had a fever, felt horrible, and no voice and a very sore throat, deep in the back, beyond my tongue. I went to my primary MD and saw the RNNP. I remember crying to her as I explained what had happened. She said my throat was swollen, injured. She prescribed an antibiotic and a type of relieving med for the pain. I had a follow up with the GI doctor a couple days later and begrudgingly went back- per the recommendations of the RNNP. Funny, now the nurse jotted down how I was feeling, and the problems, and amazing- now this barbaric, evil non-compassionate MD had me get in a patient gown, and was kind to me. I NEVER went back to him again!

For 10 months following, I had no ability to sing, my talking voice was raspy. Every single night I prayed for my voice to come back, and if it did, I promised God I would share it in church, either in a choir or special music. Somehow I would share songs, I never gave up praying. About 8 months into this terrible time when I felt a void that was indescribable from not being able to sing, my doctor suggested I see an ENT. She examined my throat to find my lingual tonsils were damaged, and large. ( I never realized we had lingual tonsils at the back of the tongue…  She prescribed a steroid, but it did not lessen the swelling and 2 months later I had the lingual tonsils laparoscopically removed. Slowly through the healing, I once again could sing.

100_1086So as I sang in church on  12-2-18, as I practice to sing, every single time I belt out a song, I am reminded of how sometimes bad things happen, and it does not always mean they are the end all. Prayers are not always answered how we want them to be. We need to have faith in life, as we have faith in sunsets and sunrises. We can not predict the future, we can predict that there will be good and not so good times.

This time I went through, it made me realize what music can be, should be, and through hard work and prayer, I am able to share songs with others in the church. It is not the same voice I had before, but it is here my spiritual gift. I thank God every day for that.