Can't sing

Recuperating from open-heart surgery is a long process.  

Initially I must not lift anything heavier than one kilo.  This is very limiting.  A one-litre bottle of milk is about right.  Opening a ring-pull can of tuna requires too much force.  Even clicking the lid on the toothpaste tube strains the chest muscles.  

Gravity is not my friend - if I tilt my body, I feel my sternum pulling apart.  I have to sleep lying on my back.  I can't change position at all, so I wake frequently feeling uncomfortable.  

And as I feared, I can't sing.

Three weeks after the operation, my chest is still giving a lot of pain.  I can take a big breath, but it's an effort, and I can't sustain it.  I can produce a sound but it is thin and lacks tone.

Normally, singing is very enjoyable physically.  Now it's not.  It feels uncomfortable.

More disturbingly, I'm not interested in music.  I'd thought that music would be my companion during my convalescence.  I'd imagined myself on the couch listening to my CDs, but I don't feel like doing that.

I back up a lot of my CDs to i-Tunes, in case any of them break or get lost.  It's insurance for my valued collection.  But I'm not that interested in listening to them.

My house is strangely silent.

I'm not getting any joy from music.  The emotional response I would normally feel is missing.

Just as food is not tasty; chocolate tastes like cardboard, and coffee lacks its usual rich aroma - music seems like background noise.  I feel nothing.  My musical libido is gone.

Is it the pain?  Is it the anaesthetic?  Lack of sleep?  Or my inability to sing along?

Could it be the medication I'm taking?

I'm taking various pills, including beta-blockers.  These slow the heart rate and prevent it from slipping into an irregular pattern.  Some people take them for stage fright, as they relieve anxiety and make the user feel calm on stage.  But other people say that they are not good for performance, because these pills drain all the passion out of it.

At the four-week mark I decide to try some singing practice.  But it doesn't feel good.  I can't sustain the air pressure inside me.  It's like running with a sprained ankle.

Yet, I start to feel impatient to achieve something.  I go online and purchase some "teach yourself piano" books on the Internet.  I've had my piano tuned and it's sounding good.  The tuner tells me it's a nice piano, and it will stay in tune better if it's played.

Slowly, music begins to move me again.  It happens very gradually - a blue note; a cadence; a chord progression will stir something emotionally in me.  I just have to trust that my desire will return.

In Week 6,  I return to singing lessons.  There's much less pain now, and I can stop taking the beta-blockers.  My teacher guides me carefully - we joke that we wouldn't want to burst anything.  I'm only half-way to being fully-mended.  We pick up the threads from my last lesson.  

Finally, I'm on the road back to performing.