I’ve had laryngitis the past few days. Luckily my husband, son and I know sufficient elementary sign language to communicate some of the daily basics. I’d never suffered this ailment before and find it very interesting, since when you can’t talk, especially above a soft whisper, people don’t know what to do with you. We’re all in such a hurry to feel comfortable in a situation, that we jump to the next subject before someone with speech issues can comment or be heard. I don’t know how many times people who I’ve been around lately didn’t look at me to notice that I was trying to respond to their last comment. Sometimes I felt like I was drowning; waving my hands in a sea of air to catch people’s attention. We all need to know that someone is listening, but when we don’t get the audible feedback, we hurry to fill the silence with another comment, or worse still, turn and walk away. Funny. Then there was the young woman at a drive-thru espresso stand the other day who, when I alerted her that I had laryngitis (so that she would know to listen closely), after I asked for chamomile tea, had the kindness to offer to put soothing honey in it (a double-dose, thank you!), as well as a few ice cubes to cool it faster so that I could drink it sooner. Bless you! Hey, who ever is out there spreading germs towards me and my family, over and over again, would you please stay home and get well?
Today marks the 10-year anniversary that my thyroid was removed due to cancer. I kind of miss that silly little old gland. You know, the way it had that special way of regulating my body temperature (even if it was a bit off), and back when I didn’t have to take the thyroid hormone replacement pills that seem to rob me of feeling hydrated, and back when I was on a normal life cycle and treatments for my cancer didn’t push me into early menopause. Well, I’m just glad I didn’t have to go through chemotherapy. Whew! If I’d known that little gland was going to cause such a problem back then, I would have taken better care of it. You know, keep it happy so it wouldn’t cause trouble and make a scene. Knit it a thyroid cozy. Hmmm…. But then who knew that the handsome, sensitive guy I had recently started seeing would actually come visit me in the hospital and eventually marry me? Things do have a way of working out! Lucky me!