March 26th, 2018 was no ordinary day.
It was the day I nearly died of a stroke.
In the sad list of leading causes of death in the USA, stroke takes fifth place. It’s also a leading cause of adult disability. You probably know someone who’s had one, and if you didn’t, you now know me.
Click here to learn about the stroke risk factors.
I survived -obviously- and I belong to the lucky ones. In fact, most people who meet me can’t tell I ever had a stroke, but that wasn’t always the case.
Earlier this month I was approached by writer Julie Steward, who told me:
“I’m writing an article for WebMD about voice conditions, and if you’re interested, I would love to include your perspective on your experience with losing your voice, how it affected you, and what others going through a similar experience might be able to learn from you.”
I’ll give you a link to her article at the end, but this is what I wrote in answer to her questions. Please bear in mind that my story is not typical. I always say “different strokes for different folks,” because the effects of a stroke depend on the parts of the brain that are damaged, and the extent of the damage.
So, here’s my story:
“The effects of my stroke were mental as well as physical, and both affected my speech. Half of my body was paralyzed, including half of my facial muscles. Because of that, it wasn’t easy to enunciate, period. On top of that, I woke up in some sort of dense brain fog, and I didn’t recognize the person I had become. It also seemed like my emotions were hidden behind an impenetrable, protective wall in a different part of my brain. I had trouble forming thoughts, and when they slowly came back, it was hard to translate them into words. When I did attempt to speak, I sounded flat and robotic.
Part of my speech therapy consisted of getting me to move again. The physical therapist helped me become ambulatory, and the speech therapist helped me with “facial gymnastics” and breathing exercises. When the brain fog eventually lifted, I began reading simple, one syllable words. Then two, and three syllable words. These words turned into short sentences. Sentences became paragraphs, and over time, paragraphs turned into chapters.
Knowing that I had been a voice actor and radio personality for most of my life, my speech therapist gave me short monologues she asked me to act out with different emotions, as if I was playing different characters. I could read the same text pretending to be outraged, in love, flabbergasted, or totally sure of myself. This exercise was the key to opening the door to my emotions again. She even had me read the phone book this way!
As I slowly restored my mobility, I regained my ability to emote, physically and verbally. All in all it took me a year of weekly therapy sessions (including lots of workouts for my brain), to get back to some semblance of my new self. Mind you, as this was happening, I spent most of my time sleeping, allowing my brain to heal and build new neural networks.
Looking back, the key to my recovery was a holistic approach where physical and mental workouts complimented and strengthened one another, as well as my stubborn determination to get well again.
A year into this process my ENT discovered there was some damage to my vocal cords that could not be reversed. She did the usual exams, sending a camera to my voice box, and inspecting the “equipment.” One of the muscular bands that make up the vocal folds, showed signs of scarring, which might have been the result of someone trying to insert a tube down my throat during the time I was rescued.
This damage to my folds made them weaker, and resulted in vocal fatigue and me sounding hoarse after only a few minutes of speaking. I tried exercises to strengthen my voice, very similar to what opera singers do every day. However, after a few months my voice sounded worse and we abandoned this approach. My ENT suggested Botox injections that would have to be repeated every six months, but they had a less than fifty percent success rate. Besides, it would only provide symptom relief and do nothing to take care of the cause. I decided not to go this route.
My ENT told me to give my voice regular “sabbaticals.” Those were times where I would not speak at all for a number of days. Knowing I made a living as a full-time voice actor, she advised me to only audition for short form content, and no longer record time-consuming audio books and extensive eLearning scripts. This severely limited my ability to make a living, but I managed to stay afloat nevertheless, thanks to the help of my wife who was and is my biggest supporter.
Not being able to communicate clearly was very frustrating, especially for someone who had been a professional communicator for most of his life. I felt like a soccer player who had lost the use of his legs. I went through periods of despair, feeling worthless, and unsure of what the future would hold.
Working with a neuro-psychologist I learned how to be soft on myself, be patient, and to celebrate progress, no matter how small. I went through a period of mourning, saying goodbye to the old Paul, and inventing the new one, almost from scratch. Regular visits to the stroke center and seeing the sad state of many stroke patients, made me very aware of how lucky I was to be able to live independently and regain ninety five percent of what I had lost. It made me intensely grateful and appreciative of all the people who helped me make this happen.
Most people who meet me for the first time have no idea I had a stroke because I look and act quite normal. But I know I’m not the same person. It may sound like a cliché, but I see every day as a gift, and as an opportunity to live in the moment. I know all the things that could trigger another stroke, such as being under a lot of stress, and I have found ways to live life in a more relaxed and healthy way. I realize more than ever that mind and body are one, and that you and I need to take good care of our mental and physical state, no matter our age.
I have learned that even though brain cells don’t tend to grow back, we are able to rewire them, and that neuroplasticity is a real thing. I have also learned not to listen to the doctors and nurses who told me I would never be able to do certain things because of my stroke; that I had to accept my condition and not have “unrealistic expectations.” Instead, I made it my mission to prove them wrong.
Seven years after my stroke, I am still on that mission!”
Well, that’s my story.
As you’ll see, I’m just one of the many voices quoted in the WebMD article. Before you read it, please don’t think “This could never happen to me. I’m healthy. I’ll never get a stroke.” I was in my fifties, in good health, and I almost lost my life.
I urge you to take a minute to look at the symptoms and warning signs below. The faster you get help, the greater the chance that you’ll limit the damage. Time is of the essence!
Click here to read the article in WebMD. Many thanks to Julie Steward for including me!
So, how’s my voice doing, some seven years after my stroke? Well, it’s doing okay but not great. It gradually became weaker and weaker, and in July of 2024 I made the decision to stop working as a full-time voice over talent. I just don’t have the vocal stamina to make it through long projects such as audiobooks and eLearning programs. Those were my bread and butter.
But you know what?
I’m still here, loving the life that I’m living!
I’ve never defined myself by the work I did, and I never will.
And as long as I keep on writing, I still have a voice!
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