The Quiet Game

I just paid a lot of money to have action photos of myself swallowing taken.

I've been having some trouble with my vocal chords and so I went to the ear, nose and throat specialist who sent me to the hospital for some x-rays. I've done hospital time before, so I know the general routine: Stark walls, squeeky clean floors, art that you feel like you've seen before perhaps in a hotel lobby or restaurant bathroom. My super-cute and perky nurse walked me through the maze to Radiology 3 which would soon become my portrait studio. After a brief description of what would be taking place, she left me to tie my gown on alone. Moments later, my photographer (or x-ray tech) walked in. Now, picture in your mind your average x-ray technician. A cute older woman in pink scrubs and crocs with a clip board. Now imagine that woman 30 years younger, with short spikey highlighted hair, clad entirely in leopard print. And not just leopard scrubs, mind you, she was wearing protective covering for the x-ray machine that ended up looking like a plastic mini skirt and turtleneck all in the same print. As she sashayed in, she complimented my name, "Claybourne, Claybourne, I just love that. Its so.....fantastic."

The next 15 minutes flew past. I might have been hypnotized. All I can remember is my leopardess photographer gently barking commands. "Drink this quickly." "Turn left." "Roll over." "Give me more!" "Flex your stomach muscles as hard as you can!" "Think 'kitten with whip!'" Ok, the last one didn't happen, but all the rest are direct quotes. She had me drink little cups of clear liquid with fizzy dots, milky stuff in paper cups and something awful through a straw that I'm trying to forget. I felt like I was at a frat party. I stood on a little shelf against a wall that moved from the vertical to the horizontal possition. It was naturally controlled by the leopardess. So as I was rolling around, tightening my abs and trying to wolf down cups of thick liquid, I was also being moved from standing to laying against my will. Again, much like a frat party. She stood behind the big screen watching my insides while her assistant gave me cups and touched up my make up. He was perfect for the part too. Thin and tall with a shaved head and little triangle goatee. You could tell from the look in his eye that he both feared and adored the leopardess. If she had asked he would have no doubt dropped his pants and sung the national anthem right there in Radiology 3.

Like any good photo shoot, once the photographer got what she wanted, I was discarded. I stumbled out of the room with the same sickly feeling in my tummy as when I was seven-years-old and ate all my Halloween candy in a single sitting. Only this time, it was cups and cups of liquid barium. My doctor gets the proofs in a day or so and then I guess I get to look through and pick one to have touched up?

In the meantime I'm left on continued vocal rest. Last night, for the first time in my life, I called out of a show. My understudy was totally ready and so I was confident that the show would be fine. But I still got a little panicky when it started to get dark and I was just at home...by myself...watching TV. It was bizarre.

I'm on day 3 of vocal rest. Its not that bad really. People who dont know you just think you're too self involved to talk to them. Like gas station attendants and people at grocery store check outs. And a surprising amount of people who do know you forget that you haven't lost the ability to hear and that just because you have to mouth everything you say and do large complicated gestures in lieu of words doesn't mean they have yell loudly or mouth their words too. This is a most difficult point to get across.

It has, however, forced me to take some time off (something I'm not very good at doing.) Normally right now I would be making plans for the day, talking on the phone, practicing songs. But instead, I think I'm just going to go and pee some barium.