That…is really not what you think it is. It’s an image of my vocal cords, snapped from the nifty DVD of the scope examination that my ENT doctor just did.

Apparently, I’ve strained my vocal cords. And developed a pair of smallish (though surprisingly effective) nodules, which have for the past month made my voice hoarse and noticeably shrunk my singing range.

(By the way, I decided to freeze frame the bit where the nodules aren’t actually touching but are joined by a line of mucus, for your benefit. Ha ha ha.)

The doctor’s put me on a round of steroids and told me to lay off the speaking and singing for the next month till my next appointment. If the nodules turn out to be permanent, the next step is to operate. “Just a bit of GA and we’ll slice them right off, ‘kay?” he says, sounding awfully chirpy.

Honestly, what scares me is having to get scoped again. It really wasn’t as painless as they say, and I have a pretty high threshold of pain. Unlike my father, who is a hypochrondriac and actively looks forward to getting scoped (hello little green men, are you reading this?), I think I can do without the experience again.

Though I do wonder which is the bigger sacrifice—getting scoped or restricting my speaking for a month. Hey, maybe I’ll blog more, as an outlet. All these brain farts have to come out somewhere, right?

Update: Completely uncalled-for screencaptures of my nasal scope. Enjoy!