
photo by my Chandra
That’s how things go folks. You think you’re particularly clever and have come up with a unique and brilliant idea that no one else has ever thought of before — and you learn it’s been used for centuries. Bummer!
For years I’ve seen myself through scary, painful or difficult times by singing — aloud. The older the song, the better because then I have to work harder at remembering the words. I’ve fought my way out of my apartment step-by-agonizing-step after devastating dizziness sieges by singing. At times I’d make it as far as the elevator, but later might make it as far as the front entrance. Sometimes guys, that can be a big accomplishment, especially for a dizzy dame.
I’ve survived driving my car home (right turns only) while experiencing severe

terrified driving when vertigo begins
vertigo by singing encouragement to myself. Want the words? (Don’t worry about copyright, use them anytime.) ‘You’re fine because you’re fine, because you’re fine, because you’re fine….’ (Use any tune you like, it doesn’t matter, no one’s judging.) It obviously worked for me — I’m still alive!
After my hip surgery last year, while five fussing nurses gathered round my bed trying to figure out how to extricate the stubborn last staple (out of 18) which had somehow formed a ring in my flesh, I sang an old kids’ song as they dug in. When they finally succeeded, they gleefully gave each other high-fives and danced about. Were they just pleased with themselves for solving the problem, or delighted with the quality of my (ahem) beautiful voice? I never asked…..
I’ve many stories I could tell you about times when my singing saved the day for me, but I won’t bore you with all the grizzly details. Suffice it to say, it has worked.

Really, it works
Why do I risk making a fool of myself in front of others who are sometimes strangers? Because it works. It seems my brain, unable to double-task well, has to concentrate on the (preferably) old song I don’t remember too well. I actually believed I was the one who figured this out all by myself — that nobody else ever thought about it before. Ha.

Music Therapy by Louis Gallait, Belgian artist, (1810-87)
Recently CBC Radio had a program about Music Therapy. I had to find out more so called on Mrs. Google. Waddaya know? It’s been used for years for relaxation, reminiscence for the elderly, physical rehab for stroke victims, plus more other physical and mental conditions than I have the space to list here. Interesting, no?
Go ahead. Give it a try. Why not?
It does work! I’ve done it too – one winter night, a friend & I were driving over Paulson summit in the dark in the blizzard to a New Years party. No other cars passed us in either direction. As a passenger in the suicide seat, I was terrified. I consoled myself for a while with the thought that at least if we were stopped by an avalanche, we had sleeping bags, etc. so we wouldn’t freeze. Then I realized that sleeping bags in the back of a pick-up would be of little use to us trapped in the cab. At that point, I started singing & didn’t let up till we saw the lights of Castlegar. And my friend and driver thanked me for staving off her own terror that had almost made her incapable of driving. So it’s possible that, whether they knew it or not, the nurses were helped through an apparently difficult task by your singing! ❤
What a fabulous story Carol. Thanks so much.
Why not indeed?? I don’t think I’ve sung in pain but to get over tension and fear, yes. Very enjoyable read, as usual.
Seems like everyone I know uses music and song and they didn’t need me to tell them about it. Chuckle.
Muriel, you rock!
See ya’ —
Neil
You too Neil
It’s so much better than suffering in silence! Thanks for the reminder…
P.S. I love the way you write!
And I love that you bother to read what I write. Stay well. Love, Mur
As they say there is not much new in the world. Do you remember charming our newest baby granddaughter with a lovely old lullaby?
(Lottie is eleven now)
Eleven??? My goodness, how time flies Tony. As for nothing much new existing in life, you are certainly right there. I send love to all, Muriel