Wednesday I didn’t go to Vespers because I had a very sore throat and a bad cough (the sore throat has gone away, but the cough hasn’t). I felt better Saturday, and sang at Vespers.

Sunday, it all hit very fast. My throat was full of phlegm, but I got through reading at Matins (largely because I can choose my own pitch, and I was fine on the bottom — my voice was cracking like a 12 year-old’s around g or a at the top of the bass clef). I was feeling weaker as time wore on, and I began to chill while we were singing the Beatitudes — wearing a winter wool 3-piece suit; toward the end, I had to drop out because my teeth were chattering.

The waves of nausea hit before the Cherubikon, and I do mean nausea. I was fighting it down and had to leave, from the kliros at the front of the church. It was somewhat embarrassing after the fact, when the nausea had dissipated and I had time to reflect, but probably best overall (hurling all over the church is not the best thing).


One Response to Ugh!

  1. For seven years I was the sole cantor of a small parish of the Serbian tradition in the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s Metropolis of Mexico, Central America, and the Caribbean. One Sunday I was miserably sick, but on the courage of my convictions (God love Julia Child!) I went to Church anyway to chant the Divine Liturgy. It all was going along quite well until the Gospel and the litanies that follow it, which my dearly beloved priest intoned in an unusually low pitch, which evidently did something nasty to my vocal cords: after the “Amen” for the Second Litany of the Faithful, I took a deep breath to start chanting the Cherubikon, and NOTHING came out. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. My spiritual father and kum, who on account of his precarious health is always present but seldom serves, jumped in and chanted the Cherubikon and couple of litanies until I recovered my voice (in time for the Anaphora!). It was a distressing experience indeed!

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