Recovering from an Injury, and

Saturday January 4, after the big snowstorm, I slipped and fell on the steps of a city bus because they were covered with ice and snow, and banged my lower back.  For the first week it just felt a little stiff and a little sore, but the Sunday following (the 12th) I woke up in agony.  Monday was even worse.  It was worst when I woke up and then sort of subsided during the day.  Yesterday I went to see an orthopedist.

Nothing is fractured.  He called it a "contusion".  The thing that was most upsetting was seeing the radiograph of my spine. (Surfing the Internet - I'm a medical editor, after all - the picture I found that most resembles it is this,)

Actually, I think my condition is even more extreme, curving farther to the left.  It has gotten worse in recent years, which explains why I keep getting shorter.  He (and several other health professionals) have said there is nothing to be done about it.  He also said I have "age-related degeneration of the lumbar spine".  This latter may explain why my recovery from the fall has been slow.

The orthopedist said if it is not better in a week to go for physical therapy.

Part of me believes that the MTA should be liable, because if the bus driver had stopped the bus and cleaned the steps, or put the steps out of action and had people exit using the wheelchair platform, this never would have happened.  I already was using a cane and hanging on to the railing.  There are now new buses that don't have steps, Just a platform that allows almost flat exit to the sidewalk, but some lines still use the old ones.  I don't blame this particular bus driver as he probably wouldn't have known or been told what to do, but there should be better safety measures.  So I will see how many out of pocket medical expenses I have.  Anything strictly medical is paid for, but I don't know about physical therapy.

The interesting part of this post, though, is about what my voice teacher said.  I was supposed to have a lesson Monday (I hadn't had one for a month due to scheduling conflicts for both of us; my teacher still performs regularly) and he said not to come, particularly as I had taken Advil that day.  (That was the only day I took it; I hate "taking things".)  He said Advil thins the blood and if you do strenuous singing it can cause vocal hemorrhage.  He also said if my body is not aligned properly, I can get into bad habits.  So basically it's no strenuous vocal exercises, just light warmups before choir practice and rehearsals for this Sunday concert.  Neither the "Habanera" nor "Moonfall" is strenuous and nothing I have to sing at choir practice goes above a G.  (By "light warmups" he meant staying out of my extreme upper register, which requires a lot of support.)

I was even more pleased by his saying that I don't really "need" lessons to sing correctly in the limited range that I use to sing art songs or church solos.  He said at this point, the purpose of lessons is to grow my skills: build my stamina, increase my facility at the ends of my range, tweak and refine things.

Last night we had a rehearsal for the Sunday concert.  I like working with this group because it is a very diverse group in terms of genre, skill level, and age.  There was one woman there with a magnificent voice (a rich full sound with easy, spun pianissimi) whom the director is encouraging to try to pursue a career (she has the "goods", just doesn't know what to do as she is not a conservatory graduate), and then another woman at my level (a classically trained singer a little younger than I am who started late and who sings art songs), as well as a young woman who never had singing lessons who sang a ballad from a musical.

What heartens me is that this director is really interested in me, in a way that no one has been since the Mentor.

And I had a ball singing "Moonfall".  For those of you who don't know it, here are the words.

Between the very dead of night and day

Upon a steely sheet of light, I’ll lay

And in the moonfall, I’ll give myself to you

I’ll bathe in moonfall, and dress myself in dew.

Before the cloak of night reveals the morn

Time holds its dream while it conceals the dawn,

And in the moonfall, all sound is frozen still,

Yet warm against me, your skin will warm the chill

Of moonfall. I feel its fingers

Lingers, the veil of nightshade,

Light made from stars that all too soon fall,

Moonfall, that pours from you.

Betwixt our hearts let nothing intervene

Between our eyes the only sight I’ve seen

Is lustrous moonfall as it blinds my view

So that soon I only see but

YOU