Wondering What Happened To Radio Reporter Jamie Dupree?

I know some of you might not be completely familiar with him, but Jamie Dupree is a pretty well-known radio reporter. He boasts 145K followers on Twitter and covers Washington politics for WSB Atlanta, WDBO Orlando, WOKV Jacksonville, WHIO Dayton and KRMG Tulsa. I’m big on WOKV, which is why I’m familiar with him. I’ve always liked him. He’s one of the very few solid reporters I’ll listen to. He’s really good at making congressional babble more understandable, and I’ve never really detected any kind of bias in his reporting. I listened to him on WOKV for what feels like forever, but one day, I realized his radio appearances were gone. I’ve been wondering why, and now we all know.

A radio reporter who can’t talk. That's me. An update on the ongoing search for my voice https://t.co/EO6ScSLHqf

— Jamie Dupree (@jamiedupree) December 6, 2017

He’s dealing with a rare condition called “Tongue Protrusion Dystonia.”

My official diagnosis is a rare neurological condition known as “Tongue Protrusion Dystonia” – for some unknown reason when I try to talk, my tongue pushes forward out of my mouth, and my throat clenches, leading to a voice that is strangled and strained, as it is a struggle to string together more than a few words at a time.

Let’s just say this – other than some simple one syllable words – it is not a voice that is suitable for radio, let alone for normal social conversation.

Monday evening, my kids were decorating our Christmas tree when word arrived that Ros-Lehtinen – whom I have covered since she was first elected to Congress in 1989 – was going to say a few words about me on the floor of the House.

Here’s the video:

On @HouseFloor: recognized long time journalist, @jamiedupree, who despite losing his voice to Tongue Protrusion Dystonia, continues to inform Americans through written reporting of his insights into Washington politics pic.twitter.com/Zsu2cYfn2h

— Ileana Ros-Lehtinen (@RosLehtinen) December 5, 2017

Dupree goes on to say that he’s been searching for answers and treatments, but his case is so rare that he’s having trouble.

I’ve been to doctors at Johns Hopkins University. Georgetown University. The Cleveland Clinic. George Washington University. Emory University. I’ve seen individual ENT’s. GP’s. Neurologists. Movement disorders specialists. Voice experts. Speech pathologists. And more.

I’ve had a series of botox shots in different places in my larynx; one set administered in January made it difficult for me to swallow for about eight weeks.

And unfortunately, none of those botox treatments resulted in any improvement in my voice, though my friends liked to joke about how I had a neck with no wrinkles.

In April, I drove to Ohio to see the head of the Voice Center at the Cleveland Clinic. When I asked him to recommend a specialist to see, his response was simple – what I have is such a rare condition that he could not name any doctors who might treat me.

That was a long drive home.

By June of this year, I was at a medical dead end. I had become one of those medical mysteries that you read about in the paper.

The Mayo Clinic had rejected me for treatment, I wasn’t getting anywhere with major university hospitals, and I was being ping-ponged back and forth between ENT/voice specialists and neurologists.

All of my doctors and specialists were clearly doing the best they could. I don’t fault any of them.

I’m just looking for an expert who evidently does not exist at those institutions.

About that time, one of my cousins introduced me to a local neuro-psychiatrist, who agreed to consider my case. We’ve tried a few things, and my voice has made a small bit of progress in recent months.

“I think you’re getting a little better,” my doctor said last Friday with a note of optimism in her voice, as I sat in her office and struggled to clearly, and slowly, say more than a few words in a row.

As my doctor says, I’m basically trying to learn how to talk again, how to re-wire some new neurological pathways from my brain to my larynx.

But the truth is, a year and a half after my voice suddenly started to have troubles, I still haven’t solved my medical troubles which have silenced me on the radio, undermined my job security, and made it difficult just to be a regular dad.

In the halls of Congress, I’m sure a number of my colleagues know I have a voice problem, and just don’t say anything, but I bet there are a lot of other journalists who have no idea that there is a veteran radio reporter in their midst who can’t say much.

Think about it – a radio reporter who can’t talk – it sounds ridiculous, and that’s what makes this all the more frustrating.

Ugh. I feel for him. He’s not giving up. He’s still searching for answers. He wants his voice back, and I hope he finds it. He’s a great reporter, and he continues to be a great reporter, even off the air.

Get well, Jamie. I’m rooting for you.