What do you do?

“And what do you do, Julia?”

“I’m an opera singer who also works in finance.”

I must have answered this question a thousand times, polishing and perfecting the answer.

I know some people who get frustrated by small talk like this, saying that there is more to them than how they earn a living, but I understand the impulse: people are asking how you spend your time, what you like to do, and what drives you when they ask this seemingly simple question.

An answer like mine usually receives an enthusiastic response about the asker’s experience with music or some curiosity about opera. Either way, I always got the sense that, however shallow others may find the question, it does help them get to know me. After all, you don’t become an opera singer if music has not shaped your identity.

Photo by Marc Watley

As it did for most, the beginning of the coronavirus pandemic brought adversity that sometimes made answering what I do for a living more challenging. However, when I contracted COVID for the first and only time in May of 2022, I couldn’t have foreseen that my singing career would be put on hold indefinitely and my identity: who I am, my life’s purpose, and what drives me, would be turned completely upside down.

COVID first attacked and infected my gallbladder at 3 weeks post-infection, which sent me to the hospital. After discussion, the doctors decided it was too high risk for poor outcomes or complications to open me up and do the removal so soon post-infection. We decided on a course of action: to treat with antibiotics, a six-week waiting period of bed rest, and a strict diet before the removal surgery, which ended up being a success. However, after the surgery, I developed strange symptoms: rashes that the surgeon had never seen before, hair loss, heart palpitations that felt like out-of-the-blue panic attacks, chronic pain all over my body, excessive sweating and dizziness, poor temperature regulation… the list goes on. I attempted to minimize it all with the thought “Gosh, I’m recovering so slowly from this surgery,” until I saw my OB-GYN for a routine appointment over a month later. She took the time to review my symptoms and carefully look at my chart, and she was the first person to say “Long COVID” to me. She referred me to the Mount Sinai Post-COVID Care Clinic, three months after my initial infection.

It became clear that the more I “pushed through” the disabling symptoms, the worse I felt.

My official diagnosis came in October after suffering symptom onset in August. As I learned more about my Post-COVID Symptoms and diagnoses (Dysautonomia, POTS, ME/CFS, hypermobility/hyperflexibility causing chronic pain), it became clear that the more I “pushed through” the disabling symptoms, the worse I felt. I continued to try my best to sing as I was able, but even on my best symptom days, when I would prepare by resting for days leading up to a church service gig or two, I found myself bedridden with pain and fatigue for days after singing professionally. Pushing through was not working for me. Over a year later, the balance I have found is that I am able to practice for only about 10-15 minutes on a good day, before I start feeling dizzy, my abdominal and back muscles start to ache, and my mind starts to get “hazy” from Post Exertional Malaise (PEM). On days when I am really determined to sing, I have tried practicing lying down but even then, the athletic, physical, and muscular effort of singing is challenging for me and causes this PEM fatigue. My vocal range is intact, and there has been no discernible damage to my lungs, but the dysfunction in my autonomic nervous system and muscle weakness prevent me from having the stamina to resume rehab, training, and rebuilding yet. My doctors are all optimistic about my prognosis– that this will not be permanent– but the recovery timeline is unknown and thus far, quite slow.

Protecting Ourselves
from a Singing Perspective

The following are some measures that we can all take as singers or otherwise to try to mitigate COVID-19 transmission risk, based on the best public health knowledge we have currently.

  • If you are relying on singing to pay your bills or do not have health insurance, please consider mitigations such as masking with a protective mask (ideally N95 or KN94) while indoors and in crowded areas, using HEPA air purifiers in gathering spaces, and opening windows for added ventilation and airflow turnover. You may also want to look into protective nose sprays and eye drops for those times when gathering in crowds (such as orchestral or choral rehearsals) cannot be avoided.

  • COVID is airborne, not transmitted via droplets, as previously reported, which means it lingers in the air like cigarette smoke even after an infected person has left a room. The best way to avoid Long COVID is to avoid infection and re-infection by practicing good air hygiene– such as masking, filtering, and ventilating.

  • If you do become infected or reinfected and need an emergency plan, discuss Metformin and antiviral treatment options such as Paxlovid with your doctor within 48 hours to give yourself the best possible chance of avoiding persistent symptoms. You may find your doctor takes a more aggressive treatment plan if they know that you are a singer and rely on your respiratory system for your livelihood. 

  • Given any infection, make sure to rest for 4 weeks post-infection, even if you’re really feeling much better. Yes, 4 weeks.

Sources and more information linked in text.

It’s not that great to become a cautionary tale, but as COVID continues to rage on– seen in the rise of reported cases, long COVID symptom reporting, excess deaths, and wastewater levels–I beg other singers to consider my case a warning, especially if you live in the United States and lack means to pay for intensive medical care. When I tell people how much I spend per month on supplements and medications, medical equipment, care, and therapies, their jaws hit the floor. And this AFTER you take into account the fantastic insurance provided by my employer. Reported cardiac events and strokes are significantly up in 30-50-year-olds since 2020, and we still do not know the longer-term effects of mass infection of this virus, other than the Center for Disease Control reporting that it can damage every organ system in the human body and persist in tissues for years after initial infection. One previous COVID infection puts a person into the “high risk” category for developing Long COVID after a second infection– and remember, I am navigating these debilitating symptoms after only one infection.

While I’ve had a year to learn about and process this illness and my new disability, I’ve had the unexpected gift of clarity in reflecting upon the facets of who I am as a human and an artist. I no longer think the greatest art comes from 10,000 hours in the practice room or studio. Art comes from collecting and distilling experiences; from the life you live, the soul you cultivate, and the people you meet. I’m grateful for the opportunity to “zoom out” from the industry and remember why I sing: It’s not just to prove myself to a row of people behind a table. I think I got lost running in that hamster wheel of trying to be the best, stand-out special singer before I fell ill. And now that I have some distance and perspective, I see so clearly that I had everything I needed to make the music I wanted to make, and I should never have held myself back because my technique had some flaws or I “wasn’t ready”. Once I’m able to begin rebuilding my muscles and stamina, I’ll keep the technique work going, but I also won’t hold myself back from pushing “record” and sharing what I have to offer, even if it isn’t perfect yet. Gaining this higher perspective has been something I am so grateful for. I will never take for granted again the ability to tell stories and share beauty through music.

From this distance, I also have learned so much about who I am outside of my singing. I remembered what a beautiful nerd I was in high school who was obsessed with all things J.R.R. Tolkien, and that I love to read, write, and learn about the esoteric. I rediscovered the things I really like about myself: how compassionate I am, and that I like to be kind and generous for the sake of it. I try to be a good friend and helpful to everyone I meet. I stand up for what I believe in and share knowledge freely with anyone who asks for it, including several other singers who struggle privately with post-COVID symptoms.

While singing is such an integral part of the fabric of my soul, it’s not the only thread. Not to quote every self-help author alive, but my identity is so much more than what I do. Who I am is so much bigger than “opera singer who can’t sing because of COVID”. It’s nice to meet you.


Julia Claire Taylor

Julia Claire Taylor is an American Soprano, who was recently disabled by Long COVID. She especially loves performing music by Verdi, Mozart, Sondheim, and working with living composers. While her singing career is "on pause” for health reasons, she continues passionate grassroots advocacy work and information dissemination to those who need it about COVID-19 infection prevention and Long COVID and disability advocacy, as her health allows.


While "out and about" life has gotten smaller for Julia with her new disability, she has enjoyed flexing her curious mind by reading and writing more, practicing piano, learning about metaphysical spirituality, mysticism, and personal development, feeding her local park's birds and squirrels, frequenting MoMA and other accessible NYC museums, re-watching Lord of the Rings and other “comfort shows”, snuggling with her rescue Maine Coon cat Sunshine, and chatting with friends and bicoastal family, thanks to modern technology. She’s also enjoying collaboration with publishers, photographers, and others to create art and storytelling projects about her experiences. 


She looks forward to performing all genres of music again when she is able and hopes to write a book about this unique time of healing someday.

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