The body makes us choose
a story about the epiglottis
Write from the World #2: stories that connect the natural world to our inner worlds. If you’d like to start from the beginning of the series, please click here to read #1 - the anglerfish.
There is one body part that is rarely given its due credit - the epiglottis. We speak about the power of the heart and the mystery of the brain, but who champions the tiny flap that reveals or conceals our airway?
Most of the time, the epiglottis is lifted up, allowing oxygen to flow to our lungs without impediment. When we swallow, the epiglottis folds down, sealing off the airway and directing food down the esophagus instead. We cannot breathe and feed at the same time; the body forces us to choose.
In what feels like a past life, I worked as a speech therapist for a large hospital system. I was hungry to help my patients, who came to me with a hunger of their own. Many of them had feeding challenges, which limited their eating or made it unsafe.
At times, what hindered their ability to swallow safely was one quick flip of a little piece of cartilage. If the epiglottis didn’t close off the trachea at the moment of swallowing, there was a risk of food following into the lungs. An open airway is a blessing…until it isn’t.
That’s always the trick of things, isn’t it? Timing. I settled into a daily routine: 30 minute commute, 10.5 hour day, 30 minute commute, repeat. It was manageable, or at least, I was managing it. Then came a traumatic birth. A medical scare. A pandemic. Grief.
I tried to keep chewing up these challenges, but soon, I was gasping for air. We cannot breathe and feed at the same time. The body makes us choose; sometimes, it chooses for us.
When I complete an oral-motor exam on a patient, I consider how they function “at rest.” This means evaluating their anatomy while they sit calmly, without any additional demands placed on their bodies. By definition, we consider “at rest” the default state, which has always struck me as funny.
Rest has never been my default state. When my doctor signed off on my medical leave to help my body learn how to release its breath again, I paused in the doorway before leaving. “I really appreciate this, but…what am I supposed to do now?” She smiled and responded, “The hardest thing - nothing.”
It turned out my doctor was right. Rest was a tough lesson to learn but not just due to my own internal churning. Craving time to breathe in a capitalist society is seen as distasteful. Sure, we may preach the value of self-care and taking time for yourself; however, these are ultimately promoted with the goal of returning to the feeding frenzy in full force, scrambling for crumbs.
But this time, my body said “no” and for once, I listened. I took long walks in the woods with my daughter, naming our favourite trees. I let time unspool around me without trying to bend it to my will. I allowed my body to take the lead, no longer dragging it around in a tight fist.
And just as an open airway is not a fixed state, I, too, began finding my hunger again. This time, though, it was different. Instead of channeling my energy into making hospital executives wealthier, I now work for a small, therapist-owned company that allows me time to do work I am proud of. I am seeking and supporting causes I believe in, which feels nourishing in a more sustainable way. I know breathing is a lesson I may need to relearn again someday (I am writing this at midnight, after all), but as for now… Buckle up, epiglottis - I am ready to devour the world.
*This essay was written in response to an April essay challenge in ’s aptly named writing group, Sustenance. It is, without a doubt, one of the things feeding me each week!
Thank you for joining me for this month’s Write from the World! Here are a few additional facts about the epiglottis to fuel your creativity:
The epiglottis is shaped like a leaf.
Researchers believe that the size and shape of the epiglottis has changed over time to help us develop clearer speech.
The epiglottis is not the only protective mechanism for our airway - the body has back-ups. 😊
This is so beautifully braided together, Candace! "We cannot breathe and feed at the same time; the body forces us to choose." is such a haunting and powerful statement, and you unpacked its layers so deftly.