THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
                 Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, June 5, 1994                    TAG: 9406030248 
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER                     PAGE: 08    EDITION: FINAL  
SOURCE: BY LAURIE ZEIGLER, CORRESPONDENT 
DATELINE: 940605                                 LENGTH: Medium 

A WOMAN'S VOICE IS RESTORED, AND HER SMILE REAPPEARS, TOO

But, thanks to a new surgical procedure called ``phonosurgery,'' performed by Great Bridge physician Jeffrey P. Powell, she now has no trouble being heard.

{REST} She describes the procedure as ``fantastic.''

``The only thing I might be able to compare it to is someone who has lost their hearing and heard a bird sing for the first time,'' she said. ``I just cried.''

The left side of Berrett's larnyx had been paralyzed in 1987, when doctors had to remove a nerve to get rid of a benign brain tumor. Because she could not effectively close off her airway to speak or eat, she couldn't eat more than a bite or two or whisper ``four or five words'' without choking and coughing.

``I was constantly begging off social gatherings, especially those that involved food,'' she said. She loved to make goodies for people at work, but had to get someone else to taste cookies or cakes because she was too likely to inhale the crumbs.

Laughing triggered the same reaction. ``I could not enjoy a comedian on television,'' she said, ``because I would choke.''

Her mother could barely understand her on the telephone. She had dreamed of someday being a schoolteacher, but instead worked mixing allergy serum at Chesapeake Ear, Nose & Throat Associates, because the job didn't require her to come into contact with people. She could not exercise because simple activities left her breathless and exhausted.

Fortunately, Berrett was surrounded by experts. Her husband, M.V. Berrett, is an audiologist for Chesapeake Ear, Nose & Throat Associates. In November 1993, Powell, one of the firm's doctors, went to Vanderbilt University for training in a phonosurgery operation that showed promise for helping people like Berrett. Powell, who has degrees in both medicine and dentistry, is on the faculties of Eastern Virginia Medical School and the Medical College of Virginia.

Powell performed the operation on Berrett at Chesapeake General Hospital in January. With Berrett under local anesthesia, he drilled a tiny window in the cartilage of her Adam's apple. Then, Powell said, he inserted a solid block of inert, rubbery plastic known as a ``silastic block,'' cut in the shape of a ship's keel.

The block pushes in the paralyzed side of the vocal cords, so they will meet the cords on the other side during speech, shutting off the air passageway. Powell then had Berrett count to 10 to determine exactly how thick the block needed to be. ``At first the voice was a little strained,'' he said. ``I carved it out a tiny bit more and then her voice was good.'' The operation took about an hour. The results, Powell said, were a reminder to him of ``the joy of medicine.'' As of late winter, he said, he had three other patients awaiting the procedure.

Berrett has a normal voice now, so different than her old raspy one that friends, and even her mother, do not recognize her when she calls them on the phone. ``When I speak, they say, `Who's this?' Then they say, `Oh, that's right. You got a new voice.' ''

She goes out to eat about twice a month, enjoys salads, chocolates and ice cream again. ``One of the down sides is that I've begun to put on a little weight,'' she said.

At age 49, she said, it isn't realistic to start work on a teaching career. But she would like to get back to the theater and she's practising in hopes of returning to her church choir. Powell isn't so sure about that, but his patient is pretty determined. ``I'm working on it,'' she said. ``We'll see how far we can stretch this thing.''

Two of her children are grown, but the youngest, 17-year-old Adam, has been living at home since the operation. Her son can see the difference in her mood, she said, since she has been able to shed the anger and frustration of losing her voice. ``He's happy because I'm happy,'' Berrett said. ``I'm a kinder person.''

But not necessarily a quieter one. Adam's bedroom is above the garage and Berrett used to have to bang on the wall to get his attention. ``Now,'' she said, smiling, ``I just yell.''

by CNB