I may never again have a chance to use the word “otolaryngology” in a sentence so you better bet I am gonna make the most of it.

For the past few years, I’ve been having trouble with my voice when I teach. My throat gets sore, my neck, shoulders, and face get tense, my voice gets scratchy, weak, and strained. Needless to say, the longer period of time I teach, the worse it gets. But, I began to get really worried when I was suffering after teaching only one class.

I’ve had to develop my own strategies for dealing with this problem so I could do my job: drinking water or tea constantly during class (and dashing to the bathroom between classes), planning lots of in-class discussion or other activities that enabled me to speak less, and creatively juggling of my teaching schedule so I could minimize the number of hours I am in the classroom on any single day.

And still, I suffered.

It seems patently clear that I don’t know how to use my voice. I have never had any vocal training of any kind, either musical or theatrical. I am very introverted and, maybe as a result, my voice tends to be pretty soft — I am designed for the talking softly in a quiet room to one other individual, not the projecting outward in front of a large classroom. I knew that I needed to learn how to better project and use my voice so I don’t damage myself — but I didn’t know what to do about it. I spent a lot of time last year trying to find a vocal coach, to no avail. Finally, someone recommended I see a medical professional. Who even knew there was such a thing?

This week I went to my very own otolaryngologist. It was a fascinating experience. He stuck a metal tube with a camera in it inside my mouth, while holding onto my tongue with his fingers, and asking me to make sounds not unlike pig squeals. It was even less sexy that it sounds. But, in the end, he verified that my vocal cords are not damaged (yea!) but that my throat muscles are being improperly used and are tense and strained. So, he has prescribed a series of speech therapy sessions that are intended to teach me (finally, after over a decade of teaching) how to properly speak in front of a classroom.

I’ll keep you posted on what I learn, in the off chance that any of you suffer from the same ailments — which, likely you do, as my otolaryngologist says that teachers make up a significant portion of his clientele.

The fact that these lessons are being covered by my health insurance is another piece of good news. I am so accustomed to the fact that I don’t get any perks with my job and that I actually end up spending a great deal of my paltry income on work related stuff (printer ink, anyone?) that the idea that, for once, a work-related expense is being covered by my work is … well, nice.

Remember, teachers, what my otolaryngologist says: Water is the best assistant to the public speaker. So, drink up!