Party Conversation, Part Deux

I don't think this story stands on it's own... Please read Part One for context.

Now, back to that trip to nowhere...

Thanks to status, I was upgraded on my first two legs (Hartford to Atlanta, Atlanta to Phoenix). Things went completely according to plan. I arrived at Sky Harbor Airport (PHX) just after 9:00 p.m. Mountain Time (EST -2 hrs.) and without incident.

The gate area was dead, so I went out into the main terminal to find an open restaurant, bar, store (maybe a souvenir from my trip?) or something to kill time on my 3-hour layover. Most everything was closed. So I found a seat and read my TIME magazine. At some point I dozed off (after all, it's now almost midnight my time).

Suddenly, I woke up, almost in a panic, and felt extremely thirsty. Across the way was a coffee stand, where I headed for a cold drink. By the time I got to the cashier, I felt very lightheaded and faint. I quickly grabbed my Diet Coke and found a seat at the nearby food court. Immediately, I blacked out. My head started ringing, I could only see spots, I was profusely sweating and couldn't catch my breath. I put my head between my legs and tried to pull myself together.

An eternity seemed to pass (at least 3 or 4 minutes) and instead of getting better, my symptoms got worse and worse. By this point, my shirt was wring-able with sweat. I knew that I was in trouble. I looked around but didn't see anyone who looked like they could help. I managed to get myself up and made eye contact with the guy who just sold me the soda. "I need medical help," was all I could manage before falling to the floor.

I sat there, on the floor in the food court, for a couple of minutes with my head resting on a chair. A cleaning lady came over and told me that the paramedics were on their way. She graciously handed me my soda, but I still didn't have the wherewithal to get myself back up into the chair.

A couple minutes passed and 4 EMTs showed up. First, they got me into the chair and started with the thousand questions (any medical history? chest pain? are you pregnant?) and getting my vitals. My heart rate was all over the place...like crazy. Blood pressure was low, low, low when it's normally perfect. They were puzzled and couldn't figure me out (not a surprise), so they decided to call for transport -- yes, an ambulance. In the mean time, they asked me to lay on the floor (in the food court, no less). Before they could help me to the floor, I fell out of the chair. But once I was on my back with my feet propped up on the medical bag, most of the symptoms subsided.

By this time, the entire Phoenix fire rescue department (must've been a slow night) had arrived at Sky Harbor Airport. At least it seemed that way. The crew took more vitals and asked more questions, but by this time the sweating and head-ringing had calmed down considerably. My pulse was still erratic and I was still very weak. So they told me that they couldn't clear me to get back on the airplane -- now my flight is about 45 minutes from boarding (this is not a recommended way to kill time on a layover). They recommended that I go to the hospital for evaluation. So I did.

Here it is: (can't get a really cool video of the St. Lukes Health Center ER to upload...bummer)

Long story short...I was diagnosed with dehydration and vertigo. What happened: When I fell asleep in the chair, my neck was cricked in such a way that it cut off blood circulation to my head. That led to all the other stuff.

I was in the ER for 2.5 hours, taking in 2- 350cc bags of fluids. They put me in a cab at 3:30 a.m. MST and sent me right back to the airport.

I was fortunate that Delta had a 5:55 a.m. flight with a good connection through ATL that delivered me right back to Hartford (with First Class upgrades on both flights)by 3:05 p.m. and with my 2009 SkyMiles status secured!

Definitely a trip worth taking!!!

Cocktail Party Conversation, Part I

When there's a lull in the conversation at your upcoming holiday party, here's a story you can tell about one of your whacky friends...


Earlier this week, I took a trip to nowhere.

Here's why: It's November, and my Delta SkyMiles account is incredibly close to the next elite status level, but still a few miles short. Status is based on actual miles flown in a calendar year(not credit card miles or any other bonus miles). This year's actual miles flown earn status for all of next year. It's different than total mileage balance -- where I have still a huge amount of credit. Mileage balance gets you free tickets, but status gets you SO much more.

With elite status, baggage fees (and most other fees) are waived, you get priority boarding and baggage handling, can bypass security lines in most airports (except Hartford, which really bothers me), get free or discounted lounge access and -- perhaps most significant -- get automatic priority upgrades from coach to first.

I've enjoyed status with Delta for almost 15 years, and I'm fortunate to get upgraded on almost every flight I take (which is a lot). Upgrades used to mean just priority boarding (guarantees overhead bin space) and a roomier seat, but with the airlines charging for everything now, being upgraded means even more. First class passengers don't have to pay for blankets or pillows (up to $7 on most airlines), headphones for the movie (a bargain at $2--and only if you don't have your own), food (Delta offers a full menu starting at $2 for a bag of peanut M&Ms), and drinks ($7 in coach vs. free and free-flowing in First).

So now, back to my trip to nowhere. I was about 1,200 miles short of achieving status, with no further travel plans through December. I realized this a few weeks back. So I found a hole in my schedule and started searching for farthest-and-cheapest-flights. Don't believe what you read about ticket prices. I found a round trip from Hartford (cheaper parking than my New York airport options) to Phoenix for $138, so I booked it.

My plan was to depart Hartford 3:00 p.m. on Monday, connect through Atlanta, and arrive Phoenix 9:30 p.m. Then I had a 3 hour layover and a 12:30 a.m. red-eye back through Atlanta, delivering me back to my short-term parked car promptly at 10:00 a.m. Tuesday. It was a BRILLIANT plan that would earn me free pillows for all of 2009.

That insanity, in and of itself, should give you at least one good cocktail party conversation this holiday season...

Muchos Gracias Amigos!!!

I taught a class for GE this week in Mexico. I was sick with a sinus infection all week. Miserable. It was me (seeping from nose and eyes) and 61 participants. But the show must go on.

We all survived. I gave Zinc tablets to the two guys who were sitting in the direct line of my germs.

Cuernavaca is called the City of Eternal Spring. Must've been Spring Fever. Here are my two new friends -- Pablo and Rafael -- they were the coordinators from GE. I'd hire either of them in a heartbeat!

A Clean Bill of Health

If you've been following my vocal progress, we have an update...

A couple of weeks ago, I went to NYU Medical Center for my final check-up with Dr. Amin. Everything has healed perfectly! I've had absolutely no issues with my voice since the surgery. I'm 100 percent.

Sadly, when I walked out, Dr. Amin said, "I hope I never see you again!"

Lucky I knew what he meant!

Perception ...and Afterglow

I was in Los Angeles this week on business. It was my second trip to this same location...UBS offices in Century City. I do my typical thing: cab to hotel, cab to office, back to hotel, overnight, back to office, cab back to airport. Business travel is so glamorous.

Yesterday, I was paying more attention than usual...not taking so much for granted...being more perceptive.

As my cab rounded the corner toward 2029 Century Park east (the UBS office site), I saw a tiny sign: "craft."

I watch just enough reality TV to know that this is the restaurant of Top Chef judge Tom Colicchio.

So I get to the office and mention this to my colleague, Jon. I'm delighted that Jon is "game" and takes the initiative to see if we can get in. His first google search calls a reservation at craft "impossible" ... a 2-month notice required. Like Martha in an earlier post, Jon won't let the hype deter our strong desire to seize the day and try craft. So he called and we promptly acquired a 6 p.m. reservation--perfect for our East Coast body clocks.

Food was delicious and lovely. We both decided to be a little more adventurous than usual. Why not? The menu had so many amazing choices!

Fortunately, things were served "family style," but not in an Olive Garden sort of way. Instead, generously portioned (and priced) entrees were placed in the center of the table with proper serving utensils. Jon and I were able to share everything without that business-dinner awkwardness (honestly, who would "share" entrees at a business dinner?). Our entrees: Alaskan Halibut in Bacon Broth and Diver Scallops with Vermouth Butter. Both were fabulous.

Jon coined the term "afterglow" to describe how the flavors lingered between bites. Everything was prepared simply (not at all pretentious), but completely elegant and sophisticated. And flavors definitely lingered...whether it was cocktails or side dishes.

The service matched: simple, sophisticated and elegant. Completely subtle. Not at all pretentions. Kerry, our server, was just like Jon's daughter Tracy. He told her this at least five times.

I am certain that we were sitting among chieftans of industry and glitterati of various sorts. I'm just not good at spotting those "types." Except for one...

Half-way through the Halibut -- and while Jon was telling a story about daughter Suzie's upcoming wedding in Portland -- I start twitching and trying to get him to look over at the four-top being escorted directly past us by the hostess.

Again, I'm no celebrity-spotter, but I know Willie Nelson when I see him!! And there she goes, putting him right behind me...on the backside of my banquette! (Picture to be posted here soon).

Jon and I agreed, it was one of those prized and memorable evenings. I'm not sure what we'll talk about more: the scallops with afterglow, ginger mai tais (afterglow), maple bacon ice cream (afterglow), or seeing Willie (jury still out on the afterglow. Maybe if it were Harrison Ford...).

I'm just glad that I was paying attention as the cab worked its way to the office that morning!

Pick up your head from your Blackberry and look out the window the next time you're out of town. You might notice something new. A new adventure. Take it in. Then enjoy the afterglow.

A Sunday Not the Same

We woke up riduculously early this morning, as usual. On schedule, Hogan appeared bedside, waiting for the first signs of movement...his signal that it's time to start the day.

Per habit and on cue, I rose, let out the dog, and started the coffee. Like every other Sunday, Todd and I sat up in bed, catching up on the news and sports scores from the night before while enjoying our regular cup of coffee. We do this every Sunday...check that...every day.

After coffee, it's our routine to get things moving, get dressed, and head out on our customary weekend morning walk with the hound...a ritual he NEVER lets us miss.

Today was a day like all the others with a glorious walk along the beach followed by a drive that took us through gorgeous neighborhoods we can only dream about being a part of (and probably wouldn't fit into, anyway).

It's fairly standard to stop at BJ's on our way home, and today was another one of those days. It was just a few minutes inside--and Todd alone, as I waited in the running car with the mutt. Then we headed home.

I poured my typical bowl of Cheerios, sat at the breakfast bar, and turned on the TV--perhaps not my proudest habit, but something Todd and I do quite a lot of. For one hour, as is often the case, Todd and I sat glued to "Meet the Press," though today, the glue was a stronger one than usual. And then ... my Sunday changed.

For the first time, I wept and wept openly as the credits rolled.

Next week, we'll go on with our routine: coffee, news and sports, the dog walk, and more. But our Sundays will never, ever be the same.

Godspeed, TJR! As the Irish say: May the wind be always at your back and the sun shining on your face!

Desperate Housewives (?) Meet Top Chef

Let's just stick with the theme of seizing the day for a few more minutes.

Check out this picture!

It's the real deal...Martha and I in the kitchen at Perilla in the West Village with Harold Dieterle, the winner of Top Chef Season One. It was taken last night, June 12. How cool is that???

The back story: Martha (who lives in the D.C. area) is putting on the Consumer Electronics Show all week at the World Financial Center downtown. On a whim, she called me Thursday and asked if I wanted to meet her in the city for dinner.

I hemmed and hawed. I was feeling too busy and didn't want to mentally rearrange my day, but she was persistent.

By 6 p.m. I was on the Number 2 train, headed downtown.

Martha and I met at the Wintergarden Atrium. It didn't take but a second to get Martha to agree to go to Perilla...so we headed back to the subway.

We didn't have a reservation, but being a party of two, we figured we would take a chance. Sure enough, we walked in and were promptly seated.

Dinner was fabulous! We tried a little of everything: Shaved artichoke and fava bean salad, risotto with artichoke confit, sauteed trigger fish, and fiddlehead and sheep's milk ricotta ravioli. Y U M M Y! Everything was amazing.

Our excellent waiter, Hunter, offered to show us the kitchen and introduce us to chef Harold. Awesome. We were both amazed at how tiny the kitchen was. Just proof that great things come in small packages. Speaking of, I expected Harold to be taller. Granted, I'm wearing heels in the picture...but, not what I expected.

Here's another picture with our awesome waiter,

Hunter from San Diego:

I thanked Martha PROFUSELY for pushing me to make the trip into the city. I gave up my "structured" day and decided to go with the flow ... seize the day ... and we had an AMAZING evening.

Now go do something spontaneous today!

Universal Studios -- King Kong and more

Last week, I was fortunate to teach a GE class at NBC Universal in Los Angeles.

There I was, at the Sheraton Universal with 46 participants from all over GE. No one else but me in charge -- I don't deserve this level of responsibility.

I was VERY fortunate to visit the Binnie family again (fourth time since December). We all had dinner together at Tony Roma's on the CityWalk, late afternoon Memorial Day. Caillie picked the restaurant...a perfect choice for the occasion.

The class and the week were flawless.

On Wednesday, I had some free time as there were other instructors in for the afternoon. The general manager of the Sheraton gave me COMP tickets to Universal (note: the tickets came from the Sheraton, not from GE). I've been there four times before, but I thought it would be great way to let loose for the afternoon: take in the new "Simpson's" ride, eat some cotton candy, do the studio tour, etc.

I was pretty non-chalant about the whole thing. BTW, I found it weird to do a theme park solo. Decided to do the studio tour, just to kill time. If you've never been to Universal, it's worth seeing. You get to see the set from "Psycho" and "War of the Worlds" plus lots of contrived stuff: "King Kong", "Earthquake," "Jaws," and "Fast and Furious II." But don't do it more than once. Go to Warner Bros. instead. The studio tour is much more interesting. Smaller. More personal. Ride on a golf cart. Get off and take pictures on the ER set. Much better than the tram.

I came home on Saturday.

Sunday morning, I'm doing laundry and unpacking my bags. CNN is showing pictures of the raging inferno in the Universal back lot. New York Street, Courthouse Square and the King Kong exhibit are now more like a scene from "Backdraft."

Then I think to myself..."Carpe diem. There you were -- smug on the Universal tram. And now, a lot of it is dust. Good thing you took it in. It was your last chance."

If you've been reading all along, you'll see this theme repeated.

Live for the day. Find joy in the little things. Live in "the Present." It's truly a gift,and it may not be there tomorrow.

Now go find something to appreciate...today!

Finding My Voice

Yesterday, my college friend (Adam) logged on and reminded me that I haven't posted since March. I tried to explain that I wasn't sure about the purpose of my blog. At first, I thought it was all about the surgery.

Then I read backwards.

I realized about 51% (a precise calculation) of posts were surgery/voice-related. The rest were "me-being-me."

So I've decided to jump back on.

Stay tuned for future posts and musings. There's no particular topic here. Just my voice.

My mom makes meat

"What the ? Has she lost her mind?"

"Oh no. That's just Carla practicing her vocal exercises! She sure sounds goofy!"

True story. I have about 10 phrases that I've been working with (we're not up to full sentences yet), and they all start with the letter "m" or "n." I'm supposed to be practicing the list 5 times a day. In all honesty, I practice about as much as I practiced piano when I was a kid...when I felt like it! With the piano lessons, you could tell. I never became a virtuoso, but I dabble around still. And I'm realizing ... it's working the same with the voice. I REALLY have to pratice to get it right, as yesterday's vocal therapy session was just so-so.

Slow down. Open your mouth when you talk. Breathe! Don't punch out your words.

I'm working on all of these! Here's the good news. In voice therapy, there are exercises, then there's the small talk before and after the session with the doctor. During small talk, she said I was doing MUCH better, and that she noticed much less strain in my voice. It's starting to work!

I also saw Dr. Amin while I was at NYU. Another scope in the nose (yuck). We're happy to report that I'm at 98% ... well ahead of schedule. And I don't have to go back for another 6 months (which is too bad, because I really like having that laryngoscope stuck through my nostril) barring any issues between now and then.

And I agree. Things seem to be working just perfectly. I survived my first couple of teaching gigs and I am being much more cautious about how and when I use my voice.

Enough blogging...I have to practice my phrases...

"My mom makes meat."

Back to Work

You know things are back to normal when...

I went back to work this past week, teaching a two-day class for UBS in Weehawken, NJ (across the river from NYC). I'm grateful that it was a three instructor (!) program, so it wasn't too demanding. I did one 3-hour session in plenary (about 25 participants),then worked in small group discussion with a group of seven. Everything went perfectly! I am well on my way to full recovery. I'm also grateful to Jon and Marie, my co-insturctors, who shared the load.

Week of Feb. 25 I am in Kansas City teaching three full days solo. This will be challenging and a real test. If it works, then we know things are back to normal!

Well on my way!

Jan. 31 -- Just nine days past surgery and Dr. Amin determines that I am 90% into my recovery and about two weeks ahead of schedule. He "scopes" me again (I'm starting to get used to this) and says "If I didn't do the surgery, I would never have known that you just had surgery a few days ago!" Now, maybe you think he's just complimenting himself and his skilled surgeon hands!!! But the fact is, I'm healing quickly.

Again, Dr. Amin spent time with me...as much time as I needed. I asked him for some more pictures (coming here soon). He was kind enough to download an entire video of my Jan. 8 exam (to see the video -- it's gross-- go back to the Jan. 8 post).

He said normally, he would want to see a surgery patient after another two weeks, but didn't need to see me for a month. I'd say that's a good sign of my progress!

Now vocal therapy...that's another story. I am learning how to talk all over again. Please, help me remember: speak slowly, breathe, open my mouth (:o), and relax my shoulders.

Updates coming soon.

A Super Bowl of Chili

I don't cook. At least I try not to. At best, I do what my friend Dennis describes as "heating." You know, throwing a steak on the grill or steaming some green beans or artichokes. That's not really "cooking" like you see of the Food Network. It's just heating.

Apologies to mom (and at least one grandmom, for that matter); the cooking gene just didn't come my way. But when dad took a liking to my chilli last week, I knew that I had a winner! Mind you, there's a recipe involved, but the process is really just an elaborate exercise in "heating."

Fairfield County--which is located in "New England" (please, where are the cows?) but disguises itself as a New York City suburb(closer...)--could arguably be labeled the eye of the Super Bowl hurricane that's about to pass through this weekend. So what better time to let the cat out of the bag on my "top secret" recipe? Sorry. Don't read anything into that...the recipe calls for beef, no feline.

One more disclaimer...I don't cook. I know I already mentioned that, but I don't want you to forget. This recipe comes from my dear, dear southern friend (Bud, where the heck are ya?) from Arkansas: Go Hogs! Sou-weeee! She first served it to us on 1.1.2000. We were at their house in Athens, Georgia watching the Rose Bowl after ringing in the new Millennium the night before. It's the best chili I've ever had. So here goes:



Award Winning Chili (I made that up)
from the Kitchen of Miss Amy Davis Parker...an excellent cook and my dear, dear friend

In a big ol' (her words) stock pot:

Brown 2 lb. of ground beef and drain
Then add to brown:
1 bag of frozen chopped onions (cheating, but who cares)
1 bag of frozen chopped green peppers
2 cans of pinto beans, drained (I only use 1 can, and pinto beans are better than kidney)

Dump in (a technical cooking term):
1 48 oz can Vegetable juice (I was thinking of trying the "spicy" kind, but haven't)
1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes (do NOT use the kind with garlic, basil, or anything else)
1 4 oz. can chopped green chillies
4 Tablespoons of Chili Powder (I use more)
pepper, salt, garlic and cumin to taste (see, it's not technical)

and here's the kicker...
1 bottle of beer or ale (I've tried all different kinds and Bass or Sam Adams works best. The most recent batch, I used TWO bottles and just let it cook off a little longer to thicken up).

HA! That's all there is to it. Let it simmer for several hours (at least three), until it has thickened up. Stir occasionally.

This recipe makes a pretty good-sized batch, enough for about a dozen people.

We serve it with garnishes:
sour cream
shredded cheddar cheese
chopped red onion

Miss Amy served it with homemade corn bread, but that involved more than just heating...

What's your favorite Super Bowl recipe?

Feel Like 'Walking in Memphis'?

OK...here's your reward for faithfully logging into this continuing babel.

My thoughtful husband--with only the most sentimental and romantic intentions--gave me (er,us) two tickets for Marc Cohn (Feb.15th at Tarrytown) as a Christmas gift. We LOVE Marc Cohn (like the rest of the world, we played "True Companion" at our wedding) and have been to at least eight concerts in the last few years. This one is especially special (is that a word?) b.c. Marc FINALLY (after only about 4 years waiting) has a new album out...and it's brilliant. What a GREAT Christmas gift...and so thoughtful.

Here's the problem...I'm not as thoughtful, and I didn't know what to get Todd for Christmas. So, I checked his trial calendar at work and went ahead and booked a long weekend (Feb. 14 - 18th) in the Wine Country of California. There's the problem...we can't do both.

Since I'm unwilling to "give away" our trip, and Todd--when given a choice--picked the trip, then I'm very willing to GIVE AWAY the concert tickets. That's right, you don't have to go backwards and re-read ... it says GIVE AWAY. Quite frankly, the "cheapie" in me tried to sell them on line. I logged on the Marc Cohn fan site (where I've been a member for the last six years), and posted a notice that I'd be selling the tix on eBay. Then I posted a 7-day auction on eBay with narry a nibble.

Marc Cohn is a little bit obscure (many years ago he won the grammy as "best new artist," and "best song" with "Walking in Memphis;" otherwise, people know him because so many people in the 90s used "True Companion" as their wedding song) and we want to give them to someone who would really appreciate them. The concert is the day after Valentine's Day, so it will make a nice "date night" for whomever wants them. And I'll even throw in a "free" copy of the new CD, which comprises his set list for this tour. As a junkie, I've been following the posts on the fan site to see what he's been playing at other venues. At one venue, Bonnie Raitt showed up and sang along with one of his new songs... hmmm... cool. One bit of bad news...there's lots of grumbling on the posts that he's not been playing "True Companion" at these shows. So, as a consolation, I'll put it on the CD for you!!! In any case, I guarantee an amazing evening of soulful singer/songwriter stuff.

And I figure, if you're reading this blog, then you're a close enough friend to justify the FREE giveaway!!

Check your calendar and respond immediately...I'll get the tickets right to you!

BTW, the seats are "medium"...not front and center, but not the cheap seats, either. It's a real small venue, so no matter where you sit, it will be intimate.

FOR SALE

White Board For Sale

More than slightly used. Great fun in restaurants. Known to silence pharmacy clerks.

Best offer.

Why I Don't Complain

I thought I’d suck you in with that headline. It’s not completely true. But I didn’t know if anyone would read a post that says, Sometimes I Complain, and I Really Shouldn’t. Okay, I complain, but I really try not to. And here’s why…

Earlier today, I decided to get out of the house for a couple hours before the Orange come on the tube. I committed to take it easy for several days--this has been incredibly difficult--and I just couldn’t take the "relaxing" anymore. So I went to get a manicure.

I have a pretty good sized bruise on the back of my right hand. If you’ve been reading all along, you’ll recall that I had issues with the IV in the hospital. Jee, the adorable manicurist, noticed it right away and let out a little squeal. Not being sure how much she’d understand, I said…”hospital” and “I had surgery.” The woman next to me perked up from her fill-job and said, “Wow! They really did a number on you!” then said, “I hope you’re okay now.” I gave a brief overview of my last few days, trying to keep my phrases short and take breaths between sentences. This is how the therapist wants me to talk. Then the fill-job lady says…

now pay attention, because this is the reason that I try not to complain

“I had thyroid cancer and had surgery on my throat, too.” She continued by telling me how long it took her to recuperate and how difficult it is to move when you can’t use the muscles in your neck. She said her voice changed for several weeks (it’s back to normal now), and she showed me the pencil-sized zipper scar on her neck.

I can’t complain. And I’m going to continue to try not to.

I can SING!

Well, that's a matter of opinion...

Let's establish that there's a distinction between ability and skill. I have the former.

Saturday, I talked for the first time in five days. I have to take it REAL easy...no phone conversations, no noisy restaurants, no yelling at sports on TV. But at least I have my voice back. I think that Todd was starting to get used to the hand signals and whiteboard...and the silence, of course.

We went out for dinner on Saturday night. On the way home we were blaring some rockin' 80s station in the A4 that we had for a test drive for the day. I sang along with Duran, Duran. I couldn't help myself for two reasons: 1) it's 80s music and, 2)I can sing again.

Todd has a different opinion.

Sign Language for Texans

This morning, when Todd left for work, I gave him the ASL (American Sign Language) sign for "I Love You," shown here:







He responded as only a Texas grad would:

"Hook 'em Horns."


Have a nice day. Now give me my voice back.

Surgery...and a Complete Lack of Communication

SURGERY
Good News: Everything went as expected. We had an easy trip into the city (less than an hour mid-day) and arrived at the hospital almost an hour early. They took me in right away. Why not make me get dressed in the flimsy gown and paper shower cap and sit around for 2 hours?

At least they put me in a holding area where I could watch other patients come and go from recovery. Dad stayed with me the whole time. We watched the weather on the East River, told stories of surgeries and hospital experiences past, and made a few phone calls—just to let everyone know that things were tracking perfectly.

I had a brief chat with Dr. Amin (while I still could). I had two major concerns: First, When can I eat? It’s now almost 3 o’clock and I’ve had to fast since midnight the night before. Since I’m not one to midnight snack, I really hadn’t eaten anything since 9 p.m. the night before (Todd, Dad and I went to Inn at Newtown for my birthday dinner, so I loaded up on protein, carbs and comfort food). Still, by 3.p.m. the next day, I was feeling a bit weak! He said I could eat real food right away (and within reason). Apparently my swallowing won't be affected at all. Good thing, I was envisioning a week of popsicles and chicken broth!

Second, I was scared about my Dick Vitale research (3 ½ weeks no talking at all). So I asked, When, realistically, can I speak? Dr. Amin explained there are two schools of thought on healing. Traditional doctors (I don’t think he called them old-school, but it’s what I heard) want you to get plenty of rest after any surgery. He used the example of knee surgeons who tell you to stay off it for the first three weeks. But nowadays, progressive doctors want you to get right back at it. Gently, of course, at first. So he said only 3 or 4 days. I’m sure Dick Vitale’s surgeon is among the best there is, but I prefer Dr. Amin’s approach to recovery! Hooray!

As we waited, at least nine different people asked for my name, my doctor’s name and the type of surgery I was having. Fortunately, they didn’t give me an accidental appendectomy. Also fortunate: they didn’t stick me with anything until I was completely prone on the operating table. Always a good thing. And I kept my “needle” track record consistent. Read on...

The official documented time of my entry into the O.R.: 3:24 p.m. The nurse swabbed my hand and asked for a fist to get a vein for the IV. I was trying not to think about it and paying as little attention as humanly possible. She was sticking me with all kinds of things. Somewhere between “Small pinch!” and “Bee sting!”, I opened my fist. Big mistake. I feel this warm squirt coming out of the top of my hand, then I see the nurse grabbing for anything to swab it. Mantra kicks in: “not blood, not blood, not blood”! I remember nothing after that.

Dr. Amin reported to Dad immediately after surgery. Everything went perfect! “Textbook,” he called it. The cyst was small and its removal was quite routine. He said I can expect a normal recovery period and wants to see me in his office next week. It’s that simple. About talking: Absolutely no whispering…it is much harder on the vocal cords than you might think. Try to speak aloud on Saturday (five days after surgery), but don’t push it. Resume normal speaking, within reason and with great care, on Sunday. Eat whatever doesn't cause reflux (which damages the throat). So much for that huge pot of chilli I made on Monday.

I remember waking up briefly in recovery, just as they were removing my breathing tube. There were probably 4 or 5 people around my bed and they told me I was all done. I heard someone say, “It’s 4:25 p.m.,” so it was exactly an hour in the operating room. I dozed off, and my hair itched like CRAZY!



... AND A COMPLETE LACK OF COMMUNICATION
I’m laying there in la-la land thinking two things: I’m cold. And my darned head itches! Again, like CRAZY! I can’t emphasize this enough!

When I finally woke up, there was a nurse (for shame, I either never got his name or it didn’t register) standing over me. He asked me how I felt. I said, “cold,” then he reminded me not to talk. “Well, what they hey? You asked! Sheesh!” So he wraps me up like a cocoon in these incredibly warm blankets. Yummy! After being scolded for uttering “cold” and now that I’m completely wrapped in these blankets, I didn’t know the eye-blinking symbol for “ITCH MY DARNED HEAD…I’M DYING, HERE!” So I suffered it out.

Now, more questions from Mr. Nurse: “Who is here with you?” “Is he in the waiting room?” “Do you want me to go get him?” “Are you thirsty.” Fortunately, all of these require a simple nod of the head or an easy-to-lip-read word. So he gives me a glorious sip of ice water and goes to get Dad.

While I’m waiting, I manage to half-way free myself from my Houdini-worthy straightjacket. My left hand has the pulse thingy on my finger and my right hand has the IV that feels like a bendy straw (that wide) with duct tape. Both with wires or tubes attached to something I can't see at the head of my bed. Ouch. n.b. None of these are the proper medical terms.

Dad arrives and I manage to signal with my “pulse-thingy” finger that I have a pad and pen in my bag. Being a man, he can’t find it; so I reach right in (with my IV hand) and pull both out. Now, stay tuned, if you ever have this surgery, ask them to put the IV in your non-writing hand. I try to grip the pen and the bendy straw digs even further into my vein (tho’ it feels like it’s stuck into my bone). My first written words: “ITCH MY HEAD.” I think dad thought I was joking. He gave me a quick scratch, but not nearly enough. Hmph. Does no one here feel my pain??? I gave up.

Then I scribble: “Let’s call Todd.” I’m positive that Dad has just spoken to him no less than 20 minutes ago. But I find comfort in knowing that he’s on the other end of the line and I’m laying there. So, I assume, he repeats the whole conversation again. This time with me laying there. OK. I’m starting to feel better now. Somehow, I think Todd would have scratched my head properly, had he been there. Oh well.

At 6:32 p.m. (not that I was counting), Mr. Nurse finally removed the I.V. Ouch! “You take a lot of aspirin?" he asked. Apparently, there was another fountain of blood--not quite like the one in the operating room--but another one requiring a supply of gauze. Fun. By 6:45, I was dressed and sitting up. They rolled over a wheelchair and I was out of there.

We’re using a whiteboard to communicate. Thanks to TomTom, Dad found his way out of NYC without needing too much help from the whiteboard. Plus, I think faster than I can write. The speed of this type of communication is frustrating me!!!

One more funny anecdote…
We stop at CVS to fill my prescription. I take in the white board, just in case. I hand over my script and insurance card to the clerk. He starts typing away in the computer, asks no questions, interacts not. Meanwhile, I’m making gestures to dad that we should pick up a couple other things while we’re there, so it’s obvious to the kid that I can’t talk. Then he gives me a “ten” hand signal and then mouths: “ten minutes!” I’m laughing inside: “Hey buddy, I’m the one that can’t talk…you can! Hello?” Is this what I’m going to have to face for the next five days??? Way too funny.

And on a serious note as I sign off...
There are several things I am grateful for:
1) I’m grateful for all the kind words, thoughts, prayers, e-mails and texts from so many of my friends, family and colleagues. I even know that total strangers were praying for me and I’m certain that their prayers were effective. I’m touched and grateful.

2) I’m grateful for my amazing father, who braved driving in a lake effect snow storm to get here when his flight was cancelled. Then he sat by my side in a completely uncomfortable chair for more than two hours – neither of us with a thing to do but wait. It was, indeed, quality time. And I’m grateful for it.

3) I’m grateful for those who sent flowers, and for remembering that tulips are my favorite!

4) I’m grateful for the hot bowl of chicken soup that Todd had waiting when we arrived home. By then, it was a full 24 hours since our birthday dinner at the Inn at Newtown…my last intake of any sort. Chicken soup never tasted so good.

5) I’m grateful for being reminded, once again, that I am fortunate, and blessed, and incredibly healthy. As dramatic as I tried to make all of this sound, it was nothing compared to the toddler who was in the recovery bed next to me, surrounded by his family and a team of doctors. He was in surgery for more than eight hours, having a cleft palette removed. He has a long road ahead. Times like this keep me humble. ..and grateful in a way that I am unable to communicate.

Awesome, Baby! Just Like Dickie V!

Just finished watching ESPN: the Orange lost to G'town in OT. Bummer. And on my birthday, too!

Hey baby, Dick Vitale had the same surgery that I'm about to undergo. His was at Mass General. They call it an ulcer (I don't know if that's a different condition), but his was also on the left vocal cord. Read more: http://www.usatoday.com/sports/columnist/hiestand-tv/2008-01-15-hiestand-vitale_N.htm

Now for the big news. Dickie V went under the knife on Dec. 18th. On his webiste letter to fans, he says he didn't utter a single word for 3-1/2 weeks. Yup. First words spoken: January 13th.

Todd likes the idea of this.

Hey! Can someone get me a bigger whiteboard, baby???

Planes, Trains, Automobiles

Sunday night, 6p.m. I get an automated phone message from Northwest Airlines. Dad's flight from Erie to Detroit is cancelled due to lake effect snow in Erie. They've rescheduled him on flights that put him in LaGuardia at noon on TUESDAY!!! That doesn't work, since I have to be at the hospital at 2:00 on Tuesday. PANIC!!!

Quick phone call to Erie. They're completely buried in snow. Panic again(me, not them). We start running different scenarios...what about Amtrak...dad can drive to Detroit and pick up his connecting flight...why not try Jet Blue out of Buffalo...take the Tuesday flights and just meet up with me in the recovery room after surgery...all these options stink!

Then Dad does what only Dad would do..."I'll get up at 5:30 a.m. and drive!" he proclaims. Dad...it's lake effect snow. Several feet. Three consecutive days worth.

So I go online and look at driving conditions down I-86 (NY 17). No snow. Roads perfectly dry.

So he drove. 520 miles. From the lake effect snow.

"What you do for others comes back to you ten-fold." That's what he always tells me. If that's case, he's a very rich man!

Ugg Update

They sold for $53.00!

One of the bidders said she was excited about my "vintage" Uggs. Me too!

Let's see...what else is in the back of the closet?

Completely unrelated...but amusing

More than 15 years ago (I know this b.c. I have pictures), everyone in our family -- mom, dad, cousins, etc. -- bought these really ugly, but very warm and cozy winter boots at Kinney Shoe Store in the Millcreek Mall. My cousin was the store manager and she let us in on her employee discount.

They were called UGGs.

Yup, it's true. Long b4 Lindsay Lohan was wearing them in the summer with a mini, all of the Lopers wore them around Erie...mostly to navigate the four-feet-of-snow-but school's-not-cancelled winters and definitely NOT as a fashion statement.

I still have those UGGs on the floor in my front closet. It seems it never snows quite hard enough to justify their clumsiness. I prefer my shoe boots which I think are much more fashionable, albeit perhaps less practical.

Earlier this week, I tried the UGGs on. For whatever reason, my feet have grown in the last couple years and, sure enough, they were at least a full size too small. So I cleaned them up and put them for sale on eBay for 99 cents.

Darn it if the auction isn't up to almost 30 dollars and it still has a day to go!! I honestly think that's about what we paid for them. 15 years ago. At the Millcreek Mall. At Kinney Shoes.

Jan. 8 at the NYU Voice Center

First, I had vocal therapy with Dr. Lazarus. It was my first "official" therapy session, since our first meeting was an evaluation. I had been practicing some sounds (like hums) since our December appointment, but it turns out I was doing the wrong sounds.

Our visit consisted of me learning to make the right humming sound, then practicing it over and over. Sounds pretty simple, but I can only seem to get it right about half the time. It's amazing how much I have to concentrate to make this one simple sound come out of my mouth. Now I know what I put my Presentation Skills students through when they're speaking in front of the group! "So much to think about!!!" I have to practice this one sound several times a day until my next visit. That's it.

After therapy, I went down the hall for Dr. Amin. One thing I have to say about this place...I've never waited for anything more than 3 or 4 minutes in their waiting room. And I was even about 40 minutes early for my appointment!! Regardless, he took me right away. (One other aside...I've had to call the office on three or four occasions with questions. Each time, I'd start to leave a detailed explanation with the receptionist and each time she either a) put me right through to speak directly with Dr. Amin, or b) had him call me right back. And he did! I find this mind-boggling in this day-and-age of impersonal health care.)

We went right into the laryngoscopy (see my earlier post) with the tube through my nose. This time, instead of improvement, we saw the opposite. The swelling had gone down significantly, but the cyst had at least doubled in size. The reduced swelling is likely explained because I haven't been teaching for several weeks. In fact, I haven't worked at all since the last week of November, except for one 5-hour class on Dec. 11th. So it has been almost a month of rest and my voice is sounding worse than ever. Now we can see why. The cyst is now almost constantly bumping against the right vocal chord, causing irritation and making it even more difficult than ever for me to produce sound. The right vocal chord is irritated and is in danger of being damaged due to the size of the cyst on the other side. Here's the video from the laryngoscopy:



Side Comment: OK. I'm sharing this in case anyone out there stumbles upon this blog and wants more information about problems like mine. It's how I got the help I got...by reading about others' experiences on the internet. That said, these pictures ain't so pretty.

What you'll see here, if you're brave enough to click the video, is a picture of my vocal cords from early January...the day that Dr. Amin told me the cyst had doubled in size. You can see it VERY clearly (I didn't try to add red arrows to show you). And you can hear in the audio exactly where the cyst would interrupt my ability to produce sound. It's pretty cool, if not too gross for you to take in. It's a great demonstration of my lack of range, and how the cyst was causing it. Also, in these pictures, you should be able to see some swelling on the right cord (on your left) that came about because of the size of the cyst. This condition is different from "nodules" another common voice problem that comes from overuse/abuse and is common in performers. Nodules are bilateral (on both sides) and symmetrical. They also impact the sound of the voice, but differently. Treatment options are different, too. That's the extent of my expertise, but this page offers a simplistic distinction between the conditions.

Just to remind you, this is done with a tiny scope that's on the end of a very narrow tube that's inserted through the nasal passages. The procedure is called an laryngoscopy. They spray a numbing agent into your nostrils before getting underway. It doesn't hurt if you don't think too much about it. And what you get to see afterward makes it worthwhile. If you like that kind of stuff...

Dr. Amin is acutely aware that I depend on my voice for my profession, as do a large percentage of the patients he sees due to his NYC location--singers, performers, etc. So he is sensitive to the fact that I need a solution. He told me that considering all of the changes since our last visit, and considering that I need my voice to earn a paycheck, he would lean more toward treating me with surgery than he did in our initial consult.

He spent about 20 minutes with me, answering questions and explaining my options. I continue to be impressed with his availability and personal interest in my case, despite the fact that he told me he sees numerous patients with the same problems on a day-to-day basis.
My choices are to continue with vocal therapy for several weeks, and then check to see how the cyst is behaving. Dr. Lazarus has already assured me that I have several vocal issues to work through and that she can help improve the quality of my voice through therapy. And I trust that she can. If I can learn to "talk around" the cyst (and it doesn't grow any more), we might not need to do surgery at all. The other choice is to operate now (an out-patient procedure) and pick up with the therapy later, after I have healed from surgery.

Other than stopping the annoyance in my throat, my biggest concern is my schedule and my business. If I wait until March or April and the problem persists, I will have to do some serious juggling to move the multiple jobs that I already have booked. I'll lose a lot of work and potentially damage relationships with clients who are depending on me. In the mean time, I'll have to keep working extra hard to produce sound and I'll have a constant sore throat. On the other hand, I can do the surgery now and take the next few weeks off, then hit the ground running in March.

I sat down with my calendar and pondered the options. The schedule was very light in January and February. I have a few meetings and only two scheduled days of teaching. To me is just made sense to squeeze it in now, since I knew that I wouldn't be "losing" any work...I just won't take any new work on for this period.

So surgery is scheduled for Jan. 22 (Hogan's birthday and the day after my birthday) at the NYU Medical Center in Manhattan. Coincidentally, Todd is in court that date, so I am flying my dad in from Erie. He'll take me to the hospital and then stay at home with me for a few days. He likes doing that kind of stuff. Plus, I did it for him when he went to UPMC for his prostate cancer surgery in 2000!

More to follow...

Vocal Evaluation with Dr. Lazarus

Don't try to do this during the holiday season! Crazy schedules caused us to lose some time in this process, but I finally had a chance to meet with Dr. Lazarus for voice evaluation.

The day I went into the city was crazy! A train had jumped the tracks in Norwalk and the entire New Haven line was disrupted. I had to drive to South Norwalk station to catch a train and arrived at GCT just minutes before my scheduled appointment at NYU. Meanwhile, the forecast was for severe ice and sleet later in the day. In all, a real fun day in New York!

In any case, it was a pleasure to meet Dr. Lazarus. She had me do a number of vocal exercises and it turns out, I have a couple of speech problems. First, I speak way too fast and try to squeeze too much in before taking a breath. And second, I do not breathe deep enough.
We went through a battery of tests where the doctor asked me to speak into a microphone and the results came up on a screen in front of us.

She was very positive and assured me that my voice problems could definitely be cured through good speech therapy. I felt very positive when I left the appointment, knowing that there was always hope that I could learn to speak around my cyst.

I did not, however, feel positive about the sleet storm that was bearing down on the city.

Dr. Amin: My Voice Evaluation

On November 20th, I went to the NYU Voice Center in Manhattan to be evaluated by Dr. Milan Amin, the director of the center. It was a very positive experience. Dr. Amin (he's Indian) was very thorough and took a lot of time to answer all of my questions. In addition to a thorough "work up," he performed a Flexible Fiberoptic Laryngoscopy. Flexible fiberoptic laryngoscopy is the most common type of examination used to visualize the areas of the throat and voice box. The exam utilizes a thin flexible endoscope containing fiberoptic cable that can be manipulated to examine areas not normally seen by traditional examination techniques. (I copied this from the website.) Put simply, he stuck a tube in my nose and was able to take a video of my throat. Then, he showed me the whole thing and "freeze framed" a few of the key pictures.

Bottom line, right away, he noticed a cyst on my left vocal chord and a lot of swelling in my throat. First and foremost, the cyst is NOT cancerous and does not otherwise pose a threat to my overall health. However, it does get in the way of my voice functioning properly and is definitely the cause of my hoarseness/raspiness and my diminished range. He said that it is very possible that it has been there for a long, long time (see my earlier post). But all of my recent overuse has put a lot of strain on my voice.

He perscribed two therapies: first, Prilosec to reduce swelling in my throat (though this confuses me, since I have no gastro-intestinal issues). The second was vocal therapy with Dr. Kathy Lazarus, also at the NYU Voice Center.

My Vocal Odyssey: History

Those who know me well won't be surprised to know that I was a cheerleder in junior high. During those years, I was also a child actress, landing the pivitol role of Cathy Cratchitt (Tiny Tim's sister) in the Erie Playhouse 1978 production of A Christmas Carol. My singing/acting career was cut short by several bouts of laryngitis that seemed to co-incide with varsity football or basketball games. Though the memories are vague, my mom reminds me that we once went to an ENT (ear, nose throat doctor) who told me that I "probably" had nodules on my vocal chords from over use singing, acting, cheering ... and sometimes just "being myself." I was not treated, other than being told to "take it easy", drink tea with honey, and get plenty of rest when I needed to use my voice.

During high school, I found new ways to abuse my voice. I was, proudly, the first coxswain (ever) for the Mercyhurst Prep Crew team. The father of one of my classmates decided to bring the sport to our school. A number of us went out for the team, and the coxswain job was a perfect outlet for my louder-than-average voice. We were a start-up team, with improvised and unsophisiticated equipment. Our first boat trailer was a cattle truck...definitely unsophisticated. I used a megaphone, but we had no technology to assist from the stern. I'd lose my voice after almost every race. I did this all four years of high school...summers, too.

Since that time, I'd lose my voice quite frequently: when Syracuse beat Nebraska in football in 1984, and during the 1987 Final Four, most notably. Syracuse lost the championship game and I lost my voice for about a week! Fortunately, I was only the "back up" speaker at my SU graduation. It's a good thing that Tom Lewandowski showed up that day, because I'd have crackled and squeaked my way through it.

Over the years, I've been more and more conscious about how I use my voice. For example, I now choose quieter restaurants over noisy pubs, or opt out of "networking" events at GE's White House -- the place where program attendees go to unwind after spending hours and hours in the classroom. I've realized that the extra strain required in these environments was starting to take a toll on my voice.

FLASH FORWARD: 2007 was a very, very good year for both my businesses. I worked a record 85 days teaching and more than 25 days at various types of craft shows. Recognize that both these jobs require me to be talking at an elevated level for several hours straight. By October, I began struggling to get through a two-day program. I would rest for several days (if I could) before and after every teaching engagement. I started "sharing" work with my colleagues whenever I could, just to take care of myself. It didn't take much to recognize that the problem with my voice was no longer just an annoyance, it was impacting my livelihood and my businesses.

I started to research my options on line. It's amazing what I learned. The best site I found was www.voiceproblem.org . Go here to learn anything and everything about how your vocal chords function. I also found quite a bit of good self-diagnose information on www.voicedoctor.net (follow the link called "diagnose"). Much reading led me to conclude that my problem is, in fact, significant and that I should see a specialist.

Again, back to the internet to find a doctor who specializes in the voice. That let me to the NYU Voice Center: http://www.med.nyu.edu/voicecenter/. I needed to find someone who treats patients that depend on the voice for their livelihood, so what better place than New York with its singers and actors, etc. I had my first appointment in mid-December.