Tuesday, March 1, 2011
People trying to converse with me lean closer. "What's that?", they ask apologetically. I can tell they hate asking again--partially because they care about my well-being, but mostly because listening to me is like trying to follow a cell phone conversation with a bad connection. Some give up and I'm left feeling as if I've experienced a dropped call.
Yes, I am exhausted from the effort necessary to get through the days like this. Yes, I've had something warm to drink and something cold to drink. I've tried cough drops and extra rest and just ignoring the problem. I've gargled and have spent long stretches resting my sad remnants of a voice. All to no avail.
There is nothing left to try, no magic bullet. I'm left wondering when my voice will ever return. Or if it will. And if it does, will I recognize it? After all, it's been gone so long that I've become accustomed to the less polished, less audible, but infinitely more interesting one I have now.