My Just Desserts

I'm still inaudible.  Croaky McCroakerson at my very best, frankly incapable at making a sound at my worst.

It's not that it hurts too much to speak.  It's simply that I can't speak.  I actually feel pretty good, the fact that I had too much wine at a playdate last night notwithstanding (yes, we have good playdates; I recommend it, in moderation at least.  And what was I to do but drink and whisper and croak and drink some more?).  More than once I have either answered the phone or made a phone call, forgetting the fact that I cannot speak.  I know this may come as a shock, but the inability to make a sound kind of hinders the telephone communication thing.  I'm just saying.

But how odd and how nice to be able to communicate fully with my friends in blogs, on email, and IM.  I feel almost normal.

There are certain interactions that can't be helped.  I simply must have my wonderful coffee from the world's smallest coffee shop (holds one customer at a time) on my way to work.  I sometimes need to make transactions in shops.  I walk through the halls at work and people say hello.  One poor soul even stopped her car and asked me for directions.  I gave them to her, in a whisper, leaning into her open window.

But suddenly everyone has to lean in, and everything's a little bit of a secret just between us.  "Yes, my signature has been rubbed off on my American Express card."  "Blackberry muffin today, please."  "Turn around and take your first left.  You can probably find parking at the meters, and they don't ticket after 6."  These little, normal exchanges take on a different character when whispered breathlessly to total strangers and the most casual of acquaintances.  The best part is the fact that almost everyone who carries on an exchange with me starts whispering themselves.  I whisper that I have laryngitis and then I whisper my desire for a muffin or the fact that the card I have proffered is credit, not debit.  Then they whisper a response.  Then they laugh and say "I don't know why I'm whispering too!"  Then I laugh (okay, smile and sort of breathe jovially), and say "yeah, everybody does that," and then they say something in a normal voice, and then they go back to whispering.  It seems it's almost impossible to talk loudly to someone who's whispering back.

Unless you're three years old.

This is probably god's way of telling me to figure out a new discipline approach.  Hmm.

Comments

[--Deb]

One of the sales people I saw today had laryngitis, too, and sounded just terrible! She did say she didn't feel as awful as she sounded, but oh! Raspy and croaky and just horrible sounding! And so, of course, I thought of you. Not because you normally are those things, but because you have been the last couple days. (whisper)Feel better, or get your voice back soon, or whatever!(/whisper)

[sara]

alrightey then - we won't call tonight LOL!

But hey - what's the verdict on desserts for turkey day? A Phillips European PIE (cake, whatever) delivery?

[Laurie]

This may be an interesting experiment, but I suggest that it's run its course. Don't talk. Period. Possible increased incidence of vocal cord polyps if continued irritation during period of viral inflammation.

I hope this passes soon for you. We all talk about our valuable senses, but the voice isn't appreciated until it's not there!

[CraftyCarrie]

Poor Cate! You know our teachers at Montessori do whisper to the kids, especially if they are rowdy and loud. Seems to work for them. I hope it comes back, but at least your feeling okay!
Carrie

[julia fc]

Willster loves it when I whisper: it's a secret.
But I syuppose that after a few days of that, the novelty would wear off, and be ineffectual if what he was doing was endangering the floor lamp. Hang in there, and take care.

[Maria]

Laryngitis is the weirdest ailment. I hope your voice comes back soon.

[Lee Ann]

I am so going to try that with Twinkletoes. Although I have a feeling that when she's in the middle of a big tantrum, I am going to be soundly (ha ha) ignored.

Hey, at least you can drink at playgroups and you feel okay.

Blackberry muffin...mmmmm....

[Mary]

Of course because I had it as an ongoing problem my son would step further back, grin and announce loudly -- "I can't HEAR you, speak louder!" at about age 4! sigh

[claudia]

At least you aren't reduced to passing notes. Folks might think you're trying to rob them.

;-)

[Sneaksleep]

Phew! I really needed a good laugh today, and as usual, you delivered! I'm still wiping away the tears. I'm sure I would totally whisper too.

[cursingmama]

Last fall my daughter had laryngitis. It was torturous for her, bliss for the rest of us; she’s a talker. Well, it was bliss until I saw her playing in her room, mouthing the words she longed to say as one doll interacted with another; or until I watched her miss out on laughing and giggling with her friends on the playground. I missed the blow-by-blow rundown on the latest misadventures of her brother and I longed to hear the “night-night mommy, I love you”. When the laryngitis disappeared as mysteriously as it arrived we all breathed a sigh of relief; Princess was back and boy did she have a lot to say. I’m even suspicious that she may have kept a log of things she wanted to say, but didn’t.