This week, I had my first ever visit to a speech therapist - sort of late in life for the ol' (46 years old) Slat Rat.
As mentioned previously, I've been diagnosed with Vocal Cord Dsyfunction - which just seems hilariously ironic. My vocal cord seem in fine shape on the talking front.
However, on the breathing front, they have a definite issue. They get all tight and block my airway. As a result, getting air in has been a real challenge - off and on over the past two weeks, the whole breathing thing has been as bad as a bad asthma attack. Hypoxia has definitely reared its ugly head more than once.
However, my speech therapist is all over this stuff. She's armed me with a whole passel of various breathing exercises - which have definitely made a significant difference.
I had thought that I would need just one visit - I thought I had this breathing stuff nailed as a result of yoga and zen. Just show me the exercises and I'll get it down. However, it wasn't as easy as all of that. Even with all of my zen and yoga, I'm really going to have to learn a completely new way of breathing. Which will take some practice.
And my speech therapist wants to go after my hoarse gravely voice - another result of VCD. So, as soon as I get my breathing under control, we start voice lessons. Oh boy. I feel like Eliza Dolittle taking elocution lessons from Henry Higgins.
You know, if you'd asked me three weeks ago to guess who the next addition to my medical team would be, a speech therapist would have been pretty much at the bottom of the list.
8:30:15 PM 
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