As I reached for her door, I felt the same level of anxiety, excitement and apprehension as I always had. One would have thought that these feelings would have subsided with as many times as I had reached for that same door handle but they had not. She gestured me in with a move of her hand, and introduced me to her previous client. She always did that. It was both cute and refreshing that she ensured that we all acknowledged each other as well as the fact that she would throw out something anecdotal about us to the other. The large, jovial, grey-bearded man shook my hand as he looked at me with a Santa-Klaus like warmth. He then wished me a good lesson and departed.
As I sat down in my usual seat, I asked her how she was doing. I knew that a week and half prior she had oral surgery for the third time since I had been coming, which was only a couple of months. She sat up very straight in her beautiful red frock, accessorized by a shiny gold necklace and matching earrings. Her lips were the very same hue as her dress. There was a certain authoritarian quality about her but when coupled with the genuineness of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes, it was less frightening and more deserving of respect. It was usual for her to say something like,”Oh I am fine, it went well. Now, let’s get down to business.” But not today. Today I knew something was wrong. I felt it and saw it as the light drained from her eyes and the corners of her permanently fixed smile turned ever so slightly downwards. I was completely unprepared for the facts that were to be laid out in the following minutes.
Miss M was an entertainer in the truest sense of the word. She could belt out any song at any time while hitting every note with an accuracy and strength that I only fantasized about. Her voice resonated in your ears and encouraged you to be appreciative for having the auditory sense. And when she opened that disproportionately large mouth of hers a joy welled up from her soul and was released upon the world. As if my envy for her vocal talent was not overwhelming enough, she could play virtually any instrument. Often we would sing while she played piano and perhaps mid-song she would decide that the guitar was better suited for our endeavor and she would casually walk over, pick one up and continue playing with such ease that I could only laugh a bit. More impressive yet was that normally these were songs that she was unfamiliar with and she had maybe looked at the sheet music for five minutes! Hers was a talent and a gift to be enjoyed and admired.
I noticed my posture had changed and that I was now sinking into my chair as she recounted the events that had led to her current health.
In 1999, Miss M was performing four-hour sets, seven nights a week at a local posh hotel. When someone saw her performance she ended up landing a gig to perform for a large party in the ballroom of one of Austin’s most famous hotels. Excitedly she and her band agreed to play for the 300+ person event. They began the performance and five songs into it, she began to feel hoarse and nauseous. Soon she realized that the band was suffering as well. She apologized to the crowd and asked permission to take a brief intermission. As she and her band walked outside, suddenly they were able to breathe again and their mysterious symptoms appeared to lessen. Minutes later, they all felt much better and decided to return to their stations on the stage. But as soon as they resumed their song set, the discomfort returned. In fact, at this point some of the partygoers were exhibiting the same issues. The party soon broke up. People left confused and feeling ill.
For months after the gig, Miss M had a severe case of laryngitis and felt an excruciating pain in her teeth and her jaw. Her doctors were baffled and merely tried to treat the symptoms, which included several root canals and multiple other oral surgeries. For anyone this would be painful and inconvenient but for an artist whose instrument is located in her mouth, it was devastating. After a year of appointments after appointments, the origin of her ailment was finally discovered: an industrial chemical had sadly been pumped into the ventilation system at the hotel. While she was relieved to finally have an answer, she soon learned that every oral surgery that she had been forced to endure was unnecessary and that her exposure to the chemical was the least of her worries. It was the bacteria that had begun to invade the cavities in her mouth left by numerous tooth extractions that was the real danger. For the years to follow this horrific incident, Miss M continued singing, continued fighting the overgrown bacterial infection and continued being the source of light that she had always been.
But on this Wednesday at 4 o’clock pm in 2012, she was living with the discovery that upon having her latest oral surgery, over 25 pathogens were found in one of the latest extraction sites, all of which were antibiotic resistant. “James, this could kill me.”
I now felt as if I were not sitting at all but rather existed as a puddle on this chair, this same chair that I had sat in so many times before. I half way expected to disappear through the tiny holes in the seat and land on the floor drop by drop. I nervously asked her what the plan was to attack this bastard infection. She told me that she was looking into a specialist in Seattle and that there was hope that they could control the bacteria but that it would entail taking various hardcore antibiotics, switching every couple of months for the next five years. As she continued telling me all of the different options that she was looking into, I realized that I was no longer actively listening. I was lost in the disbelief that this woman, this elegant, talented, exuberant woman was dealing with something so traumatic and if it were not for her sharing it, I would have never known. Nothing in her demeanor, nothing in her level of passion, nothing in her appearance was any indicator of her reality. The only words able to formed amongst the cloud of incoherent thoughts floating aimlessly in my mind were,”How do you stay so optimistic?”
“What else can I do? Lay down and die? That is why everyday, I put on a beautiful dress, do my make-up, put on my favorite jewelry, and invite all of you into my room to share your voices with me in a celebration of music and of life. Now let’s get down to business.” – Miss M
“For myself I am an optimist – it does not seem to be much use to be anything else.” ― Winston S. Churchill
Love Is The Only Way 