The French moan about the state of their health service, rather like the English do, but in my experience, with less justification.

Last year, during a visit to the doctor for something unrelated, I mentioned that I had a very annoying post nasal drip and that it was having an effect on my voice. The doc diagnosed reflux and gave me tablets, which gave me reflux! I stopped taking them and went back to the doc, who looked surprised and said he’d send me to see a specialist.

The doc knows I love singing, but when he wrote “singer” in big capitals on the letter for the specialist, I felt it was rather overstating things; my mother and grandmother had beautiful voices and my daughter Alex has an amazing voice, but it skipped a generation in me, leaving me with what can best be described as a very ordinary, rather weedy voice.

However, when I took my letter to the specialist, he wanted to know what I sing – was it rock? he asked, with an ironic twinkle in his eye. He nearly fell off his chair when I said that yes, actually, it was indeed rock and the rest of the appointment was spent discussing music. When I left, with a prescription and a promise that, when I’d finished the treatment, he’d send me to see someone who’d help with my voice, I had the distinct feeling that I hadn’t actually been listened to. Oh well, I’d take the medicine and see what happened.

The medicine worked to a degree, but had some very undesirable side effects, so I stopped it and went back, determined to make him listen this time. It turned out that what I’d been taking wasn’t suitable, but he’d send me to see an orthophoniste. I phoned one, who asked a few questions and said I needed to call someone else, who was a specialist in the field, but I’d have to wait for an appointment as she’s very busy. I was surprised when my first appointment came through in just 3 weeks.

If you google orthophoniste, it translates as speech therapist, but Nadia is so much more than that; she seems to work with people who’ve had strokes and children too, but also has this specialty. I think she enjoyed our sessions as much as I did, as she taught me to locate and control my diaphragm, in order to breathe properly, how to use my larynx and what happens to it when you move from chest voice to head voice, as well as a lot more. She showed me exercises to do daily, some using a drinking straw in a bottle of water, others not, and was amazed when it took me weeks to be able to do what I can only describe as a rolled french r. How, she wanted to know, do English children make the sound of a lion?  Occasionally I had to video myself during rehearsals, so she could point out mistakes and give me tips for improving my performance.

We laughed a lot during my appointments, not least when she started talking about “haletement”, a bit like panting; I heard ” allaitement”, which means breastfeeding, (sounds the same), causing me some confusion, unsurprisingly.

I’ll never have a voice like Alex’s, but it’s improved enormously, both in strength and in the range of notes I can hit now.

So after 30 sessions (courtesy of the health service),  she’s discharged me, with instructions to continue doing my exercises every day. I’ll miss my visits to see her.