Margerumalia – A New Year’s Resolution, Part 1

Newsletter – January 3, 2025

As I said last week, I don’t usually make resolutions. But this year I have a specific goal: retraining myself to speak. 

Me—actor, singer, director, teacher, public speaker—with a speech impediment? What gives?

Over the past few years I’ve noticed that my ability to say certain phrases has left me tongue-tied, and it got worse in 2024. Of course, this escalated during the period when I was scheduling multiple book signings, but I soldiered on through, and people patiently waited for me as I corrected my words. Bless them. But I wasn’t satisfied. 

I got new insight into how it feels to have a disability. Suddenly I required people’s tolerance as I saw weariness creep across their faces, maybe they even had the urge to complete my sentences for me. I’ve been told by several people that they didn’t notice, so it could have been my projection. My own impatience with myself, however, made me want to avoid lengthy conversations, and I became a little bit reclusive. I also found myself tiring more easily while directing plays.

I’d had enough. 

Over the summer, my wife and I made an appointment with a Doctor of Functional Medicine, each for different reasons. We had blood drawn at a lab where it was analyzed according to the instructions of the doctor. She then reviewed the entire blood panel with each of us, identifying levels of everything from glucose to magnesium, uric acid, iron, and much more. She also drew comparisons between certain items and discussed the implications of their levels.

Near the end of my appointment she said that certain indicators told her I was fighting off an infection. Nonsense, I thought, I never get sick and my only bout with COVID was over a year earlier. I had no idea what kind of infection she might be referring to. She prescribed a few different supplements to help my body fight off this unknown infection.

Two or three weeks into taking those supplements I had a revelation. My tooth! 

Remember a few weeks ago I described my tooth extraction experience in the dentist’s office? (November 29, 2024 – Christmas Lights and Dental Blights) My previous dentist had been “watching” that tooth for about two years, poking around at the pustule in my gums. That was the infection! And because the pustule hadn’t opened and leaked into my mouth, that meant I had a constant flow of infection going into my bloodstream. 

There had also been a previous tooth on the bottom row that we had “watched” for a couple of years before that. It had the same kind of pustule that was also draining into my bloodstream for a couple of years before it started hurting and had to be extracted.

These infections were all near my tools for articulation, and close to my brain, the control center for speaking. 

I admit to being complicit in the decision to “watch” each tooth. Shall we put off for tomorrow what I don’t want to experience today? Sure, let’s do that!

When I added up the timeline of those two teeth, one after the other, it matched the time period in which my speech had started to change.

I know the expression that correlation is not causation, but with a lack of any other known infection in my body it makes for pretty strong circumstantial evidence. (Yes, I do watch The Lincoln Lawyer AND read the books, why do you ask?)

I have another blood draw in a couple of days followed by another analysis and consultation. I have high hopes for closure on this issue. 

I’d estimate that my speech is about 50% better than it was a few months ago, but that’s not good enough for me. Next week I’ll tell you about my personal speech therapy using poetry.

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PSA: Part of the reason I’ve described this situation in detail is to prompt you or your loved ones to seek medical treatment when you need it. A former student of mine just posted a similar PSA about his recent surgery for skin cancer. Early detection and treatment is so much less expensive than what may develop. Please take care of yourselves.

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles

Margerumalia – Christmas Lights and Dental Blights

Newsletter – Nov. 29,2024

Two days after draping Christmas lights across our front bushes we got the first snow of the season. I was patting myself on the back while taking this photo, but to give credit where credit is due, it was Debbie’s initiative to trim those bushes making it all possible. She’s a go-getter gardener while I’m a reluctant one.   

You know what else I’m reluctant about? Getting a tooth pulled. 

As I’ve explained to many dentists and their assistants, whatever you may be doing in my mouth, it’s far worse in my imagination. I hum tunelessly to distract myself from my own fears. Like a white noise machine, it disrupts the brainwaves that deliver images of a bloodbath like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

So I’m lying back in the dentist chair, inhaling a mix of oxygen and nitrous oxide—laughing gas, hah, not in my experience—knowing that the dentist is running late because he got stuck in traffic. You know those stories of surgeons who accidentally amputate the wrong limb? I don’t want him to arrive in a frenzy, knowing that people are waiting. I don’t want him to be in a hurry to catch up with his schedule and pull out the wrong tooth! 

It’s not like he can put it back.

He arrives, introduces himself, and I immediately pat him on the shoulder and sympathize with the traffic situation. “I’ve lived in LA,” I tell him, “I know what it’s like. You’re gonna need a moment to take a few deep breaths.” And study the tooth chart.

There ya go, Eric, establish rapport. Let him talk about idling on the interstate, let him get it out of his system. We’re friends now. He’s not about to pull the wrong tooth out of a friend’s mouth. 

The assistant joins him and they compare plans for the weekend. She had planned to put up Christmas lights, but failed to get them out before the snowfall. 

“I did!” I slurred, the numbness starting to take a hold of my cheek. I pulled out my phone and shared the picture above which they admired. More rapport, more camaraderie. Pretty soon I’d be humming tunelessly, but at least I was a third person in the room, not just another mouth full of teeth. 

“This one will probably come out in pieces,” the dentist warned me. 

“Because it has a crown?” I asked. 

“Yes, and the root canal that was done many years ago.” 

That’s the right tooth! I was still fearful of the procedure, but at least I knew it would be the right one. 

I survived, of course, to write this harrowing account of Eric The Tuneless Hummer. 

TTFN!

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My middle grade novel, The Most Amazing Museum of Los Angeles is available through The BookBaby Bookshop at https://store.bookbaby.com/book/the-most-amazing-museum-of-los-angeles