Feature Column For Expressing My Thoughts And Ideas

     On Tuesday, January 13, 1998, the Green Bay Press-Gazette carried a story entitled Man’s voice, lost for 19 years, restored: Larynx transplant declared a success. In a nutshell, the story informed the reader that “a man who lost his voice in a motorcyle accident 19 years ago rasped ‘Hello’ and ‘Hi mom’ just three days after the first larynx transplant since 1969.”

     I am almost certain that such a story went unnoticed due to Super Bowl XXXII. Timothy Heidler, the forty-year-old gentleman who received the transplant could not compete with the likes of Brett Favre, Antonio Freeman, Reggie White and other such greats in a town who adore the sport of football. It caught my attention because it brought back a lifetime of memories.

     At birth, I was born with voice complications that were to remain with me until age thirty-two. As far back as I can remember, I was always losing my voice for extended periods of time. This problem manifested itself a lot stronger once I began school and especially reared its ugly head during the winter months.

     Because the cold months compounded the problem, the doctors always treated me for a sore throat and told my parents I was very sensitive to cold weather.

     On a daily basis, my throat always felt like there was something stuck in it. For this reason, I was constantly clearing my throat to the point of causing it to bleed.

     In my elementary schooling, some of my teachers gave my parents their unsolicited medical diagnosis. They felt that my voice loss was more “psychological” than “physical.” They could not have been more wrong!

     Because my family did migrant work, we traveled to different states and thus attended various schools.

One school district in particular decided they had the perfect answer to my “psychological” problem. They began sending me to a speech therapist.

 I remember that the therapist was a very nice lady who wore bright red lipstick. I also recall the difficulty in trying to produce the simple sound necessary to speak the word “he.”

     I was able to graduate from high school and college without having major problems with my voice. In college I earned a teaching degree in Spanish and immediately found a full-time job. Several years of teaching took its toll on my voice.

     In one of the school districts I taught, I became friends with a teacher whose father-in-law happened to be a medical doctor. He wanted me to meet his father-in-law and one day the opportunity presented itself after school. After conversing with him for a few minutes, he asked if my voice always sounded harsh and raspy. I explained that this was a lifelong problem.

     He suggested a well-known doctor in Madison who specialized in throat problems. Several visits to the doctor revealed that my problem was not “psychological” but “congenital .”

      I had been born with a deformity in my throat as a direct result of mom inhaling pesticides that were sprayed on the crops she harvested as a migrant worker.

     I felt very angry towards the people who had insisted my condition had been psychological. Several months after the operation, I decided to let the anger go. Why? “A still small voice spake unto me, ‘Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be.” (Alfred Lord Tennyson).

     In the coming weeks, I am due for a check up but expect that all will go well. If things go accordingly, I will silently say of the doctor and everyone involved, “I thank you for your voices, thank you, your most sweet voices.” (Shakespeare).

     Remember, just because a doctor cannot diagnose a medical problem it does not mean that an individual is not sick. Sometimes it is better not to voice an unsolicited opinion.

Antonio G. Saldaña