The cerebellum, a term that means “little brain” in Latin, is the structure that is nestled below the cerebrum at the back of your head, just in front of the brain stem. It plays a role in balance, coordination, depth and size perception, sense of timing, learning, emotions, and decision-making, among other things. Who knew that my cerebellum would be attacked enough by MS to make it look like Swiss cheese? But while the damage to my cerebellum has had some obvious effects on my functioning, I continue to marvel at the brain’s ability to rewire itself to get around certain problems. In my case, a good example is the way I’ve learned to compensate when drinking my coffee from a cup every morning. Between tremors and lack of coordination, both caused by damage to the cerebellum, I spill my coffee everywhere when I lift up the cup to drink. However, by relaxing my abdomen and taking breaths at the right time, I’m able to hold the cup steady. This is definitely a workaround for the brain. Amazingly, the cerebellum has found a way to master this new movement.
How My Speech Is Affected by Cerebellar Damage
The cerebellum is also responsible for speech production, articulation, and pitch. Let me tell you how my interest in speech production got started. Every time I tried to video chat with friends, I would get confused looks and questions as to what I had just said. I was getting tired of having to constantly repeat myself, as well as of the confused looks after I repeated myself. What was going on? Something was going on inside my brain. Things were moving in slow motion, including my speech. Everything I said or pronounced was like wading through quicksand. My tongue wasn’t moving as it should. In parallel with the slowness in speech, I was tremoring and displaying a lot of incoordination with fine movements, such as bringing a cup to my mouth to sip coffee. This all makes sense to me, because although speaking and lifting a cup use different muscles, both actions were affected by a lack of coordination and slowness. And both were affected because the organ in the brain that’s responsible for both — and which was being troublesome — is the cerebellum. While I am not qualified to say what exactly is going on in the cerebellum, I am qualified to say that I live this every day.
Tongue Exercises and Slowing Down Help Me Speak More Clearly
Short of seeking the counsel of a speech therapist, I am doing tongue exercises that I found on a yoga website. Does this help my current situation? Yes, if I do the exercises throughout the day. The incoordination of the coffee cup is a little harder to deal with. If I use a straw, all my problems are solved. However, I like sipping my morning coffee, not ingesting it through a straw. Somehow, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to sip warm coffee from a cup. I asked my neurologist about dysarthria and speech. She said it was tricky and said a speech therapist was the person she would send me if I wanted. I declined. The situation wasn’t disabling enough to warrant outside help. Maybe the speech therapist would have taught me a few tricks, but I know enough to slow down and take my time.
Heat Worsens the Dysarthria
The one thing I’ve identified that definitely makes dysarthria worse is overheating. This could be from a fever or just high heat and humidity. Speech in these situations results in slurring and in my case, inaudible speech. I will slur my speech when I am tired or overheated, but at no other time that I am aware of. People around me are quite honest about my behavior, which helps me remain cognizant of my state.
Speech Problems Have Been With Me for a Long Time
By the way, this speech involvement is nothing new. I experienced the same symptom in 1983, three years before my diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. I was barely 19 at that point and was confused when this symptom appeared. I was in college and did not appreciate anything disrupting my collegiate experience. I remember being in freshman biology seminar with minutes of time when blank sensations in my brain did not allow me to speak. Now my speech slows down, but back then I was unable to speak. So back in 1983, the foundation for present-day speech difficulties had already been laid. I remember my neurologist giving me a high dose of steroids (the only remedy at that time), because the speech center of the brain was being attacked. It was probably a good thing that I had little understanding of what was taking place. The cruelty of MS has taken place. Now I have age, experience, and wisdom to find ways to deal with that cruelty. My understanding of what is happening to me is terrifying, but just knowing that my resilience and positivism can help me get through just about anything is my impenetrable defense.
