Palatine Uvula

n. (yoo-vyuh-luh) The small, fleshy, conical body projecting downward from the middle of the soft palate. The uvula is of course that little length of flesh that hangs from the back of our mouth over our throat. It's formed during development as the last step in fusing the two halves of the soft palate, as it "zips up" from front to back. We all got one, but rarely do we pay attention to it. There's no need. It's out of sight and out of mind. Unless you're my friend KJH. The word itself is derived from the diminutive of "uva", the Latin word for "grape". Here in America, we don't utilize our little fruit muscle much at all. Aside from the folks that like to touch it after dinner to make themselves vomit, we really only use it to block air from our lungs to make a few noises. Most often that's the /b/ sound. If you're German, French, Hebrew or Hmong, you'll use it a lot more when pronouncing the uvular consonants common to those languages. But for us here in the US it's, essentially, nonessential. 

 

So how does KJH fit into this little anatomy lesson? Let me tell you. I saw the biggest, reddest, most unbelievably inflamed uvula of my life in the mouth of my friend the other day. I'll be honest, I don't get the chance to check out many uvulas, but I am 100% certain this was the most engorged uvula I have ever encountered. KJ was visiting from Chicago last weekend. I took him fishing and he caught his first ever largemouth bass. That was awesome and I thought it was going to be the highlight of the visit. But then this happened. I can't get the image out of my head. This thing was as big as the bait we were using to catch fish. I gag at the mere thought of the finger-sized uvula that was resting on this dude's tongue early the next morning. (Gag) Seriously. It will forever be the weekend of the uvula. I was a little freaked out. KJ, on the other hand, decided to eat a bowl of Rice Krispies. 

 

How he got anything past that sea cucumber in his craw is beyond me. I was going to suggest gargling with salt water, but was afraid that might make it mad. He says this is the 3rd time he's experienced this malady. (Gag) Although, he did admit the instances before weren't as bad. I had to mention the thunderous snoring that woke me up around 2 am. He must have been playing some serious tonsil hockey with that thing and it had to be related to his current condition. But did the snoring cause the swelling or did the giant sack in his mouth cause the snoring? Either way, I couldn't believe he was so calm about it. I'm not exaggerating; it was like a superfluous tongue in his throat. But KJ nonchalantly packed his bag, filled a little water bottle with a lot of ice and bid his adieu. I think I just used my uvula. (Gag) 

 

Fast Forward to Wednesday. I'm emailing KJ and his uvula is still distended. He can't speak right so he's telling people he has a "sore throat". Yeah, I guess I'd be embarrassed to tell people there was actually an alien growing out of my pie hole too. 4 days in and he's starting to get worried now. We're looking up symptoms and treatment on the Internet. KJ starts mentally preparing for the impending uvulaectomy that we determined is his only option. He gets an appt. with his Dr. for 3pm and leaves work early. 

 

 Got a message from Ken, I mean KJ, first thing this morning. Dr. prescribed some heavy duty steroids, but left his musculus uvuae intact. He reports a sore punching bag, unusual feelings of aggression and tender breasts, but his uvula is already back to normal size. Whew. Close call. And what, you may be asking, is the moral of this story? The hell if I know! I'm just glad KJ can talk and I hope to never see anything like that in someone's mouth ever again.