I WISH I could say that my latest visit to Bangkok was uneventful, a weekend of food trips, shopping, plus a show.

No, it went... quiet dinner, a stay in the hospital, and a show. It was wonderful.

Wait a minute ? what?

As a singer, I?m particularly sensitive to how my upper respiratory system feels when it?s healthy and when it?s not so healthy. I keep a well-stocked medicine kit. But the bug I caught two days before my flight to Bangkok had me worried, as it descended swiftly.

I had woken up with a very sore throat, runny nose and bouts of sneezing. My regimen of fluids and bed rest seemed to work, so that when travel morning came, I was feeling better. Upon my arrival in Bangkok, I scheduled a massage and a facial in the hotel spa.

Normally, this would have sent me up to the gates of heaven, but the coughing began while I was face up on the massage table. Once I was done, I headed up to my room and checked: There were white spots on my right tonsil, a sign that a bacterial infection was upon me. Panicked, I started a cycle of antibiotics and thought I had headed the infection off at the pass.

Uhmm? no.

A Thursday rehearsal was scheduled with my brother Gerard and the Bangkok Symphony Orchestra at an auditorium in the city. Gerard suggested rehearsing just a few easy things. My husband Rob warned me to take it easy. But things loosened up as the session progressed, so I pushed my voice a little more. Huge mistake.

I lost my voice altogether that night. I tried to get some sleep, but because of sheer fear, I stayed up, praying I?d soon get back to... at least serviceable. And knowing only too well that something like this didn?t heal without aggressive medical intervention, I sent a Facebook message at 4 a.m. to a friend, a marketing person from Scenario, one of Thailand?s top theatrical companies. Thitipan Raksasat would be my hero.

I asked if he could bring me to a good voice doctor, and my trusty sidekick Sheilla Habab followed things up. No sound was coming from my mouth, so we were communicating via cell phones and the Internet.

I got an 11 a.m. appointment at the Bangkok Hospital with Dr. Jiravadee Chatutasri, physician to many local artists.

Meanwhile, my mother called. She has this pinpoint maternal instinct when something?s wrong with me. And since I passed the phone to Rob, she suspected that we were hiding something. Sure, we were, because we didn?t want her to worry. The irony was, the more we did this, the more she worried. It was pretty funny watching everyone run defense for me. I love my family so much!

This is a hospital?

Turns out, Bangkok Hospital resembles a really nice hotel! Huge pane glass windows generously let sunlight in. An international admissions counter had foreign language translators, and live music played in the lobby. I even spied my concert poster on the way to the ladies? room!

Dr. Jiravadee is a slightly built woman in her mid-30s, with a welcoming smile. She checked my nose, throat, tonsils ? the process is never comfortable; I was gagging and choking like crazy. My vocal chords were pink (they should be white), my tonsils were swollen. The doctor?s sheet read, ?Acute tonsillitis, acute laryngitis.? Yikes.

With Thiti translating, she gave me two choices: 1) get a steroid shot today and another tomorrow, with no assurances; or 2) check into the hospital for intravenous antibiotics and steroids, guaranteed to get my voice back. I picked the second. I?d have to stay overnight in this really, really nice hospital, and that wasn?t a bad deal at all.

I had a ?simple? room ? bed, couch, recliner, flat screen TV, fridge, microwave, hot water pot, hair dryer... and five hours of free Wi-Fi. I was served chicken congee and some fresh fruit.

A nurse used a kiddie IV needle on me, because of my ?soft and delicate skin? ? her words, not mine. The head of the international ward, a lovely Filipina named Anabelle, checked on me as well.

Another nurse then appeared with the first round of medication: steroids and antibiotics ? one injected and another in a 30-minute IV drip ? and an effervescent mucolytic. I was too worried to get quality rest. I ordered room service (oh yeah, this hospital has that, too) from a really pretty menu ? Caesar salad and a tuna sandwich.

I surfed the Net, watched TV, got more meds. I felt better after lunch. The nurses would check on me every few hours.

At 6:30 a.m. the next day, I had another round of medication. Dr. Jiravadee came in at 8:30 a.m. The inflammation had gone down by 50 percent! I was discharged at 12 noon, with a bag of oral medication and printed instructions (with pictures).

After checking out, I headed to the food court with Rob, Sheilla and Thiti, and had the best duck noodle soup! Then back to the hotel. It was 1 p.m. and I hadn?t attempted to say a word. The show was seven hours away.

After a nice hot shower, I got dressed for rehearsal at the venue, Queen Sirikit National Convention Center. I sound-checked only two very easy songs. Surprisingly, I produced some sound.

Upstairs. Juan Sarte, my make-up artist, was ready. It was now 6:30 p.m. As he did my hair, I began to warm up with some simple slides? uh-oh, that didn?t sound good. It made Juan very nervous.

At this point, all I could do was leave everything to God. I prayed with my brother before the show? I had asked friends and family to pray for me as well. I even asked my Twitter followers ? over 15,000 of them. That?s a lot of prayers!

How went the show? It was great.

After the first song, I told the audience, briefly, all that happened. I thanked the good folks at Bangkok Hospital for taking such good care of me. My speaking voice was a mess but, miraculously, whenever I sang, it sounded fine, even great in spots.

I asked a singer-actress friend, Suthasinee ?Pat? Buddhinan, to come up on stage and sing one number with me, unrehearsed. To her goes my gratitude, as it does to four young men who sang ?A Whole New World? with me. Three of them were Pinoys, one was Thai, and they were incredibly fantastic!

Lesson learned

I?ve placed so much emphasis on technique and on aspiring to always give a perfect performance. Many times, when I flubbed a lyric or a note, I came down hard on myself, thinking I disappointed the audience. I feared that this night in Bangkok would be a disaster.

I was wrong. The audience?s warm response and the loving support of my family made me realize something I always knew, but I believe God used this as an opportunity to bring the point home: ?Sing with your heart, always. The technical stuff doesn?t matter. Your voice is only a part of your gift; the rest comes from your heart.?

I flubbed a lot of lyrics, missed many notes. Even so, I believe this was one of the best performances of my life.

Praise be to God.