As those of you who follow me on twitter will know from my numerous, frustrated tweets, I have lost my voice. It is not the first time, a few years I went through a patch of quite regularly losing my voice but it hasn't happened in ages now so I had forgotten just how frustrating it can be for a talker like me to lose such a vital tool.
Of course the key to regaining your voice is to completely rest it. Not say a word. Not make a sound. This is not me. I could pretty accurately be described as addicted to talking, so I am not really good at this whole resting thing. I don't actually feel sick (I suspect it is a post viral thingie from the cold I had a couple of weeks ago) and I can croak out the odd word which means that I invariably do silly things like leave the house and attempt to communicate.
I know this is only going to prolong the situation so today I'm working from home to reduce the temptation. The issue it doesn't solve is not being able to talk to S. He was a bit weirded out by my silence at first, even commenting to people about how strange the house was with me being silent. Since then he has taken to talking more to fill in the strange and unusual quietness in our house. Unfortunately his talking often includes questions to me. And not simple yes/no questions. Complex questions.
I try not to cave and answer him. I've typed or written out many an answer but when the computer or pen and paper are not handy I have found myself doing what can only be described as a cross between charades and interpretive dance. Here I am, voiceless and leaping about attempting to gesticulate an answer to what is being discussed on Q&A tonight. Or miming that there isn't enough soup for dinner we need something else to go with it.
It is in a word, hilarious. He has no idea what I'm on about and yet I continue to leap and point and act out that we had plumbers in the office and they were noisy. We both end up in hysterics, which I'm sure are no good for my vocal chords but by golly are the good for the soul.
Losing my voice may be frustrating but it is also unexpectedly amusing!
Oh how funny - although I am sorry you are voice-less! I lost mine last year and it was a real surprise to me how hard I found it. I am not a talkative person, but I clearly value talking when I do it and I had a lot of trouble being quiet. I took to writing things with Mr B but it was a challenge!
ReplyDeleteI hope your voice returns soon and you can put words to the interpretive dancing ;)
Thanks Kari. I've managed to get a strange gravelly tone today, but am still attempting to rest it as much as possible.
DeleteThat sounds adorable - now I kinda want to pretend to have lost my voice just to experience the new, charades-esque form of communicating!
ReplyDeleteI also embrace this kind of dance communication when caught snacking in the kitchen. I consider it more polite (and far more amusing) than talking with my mouth full.
DeleteI lost mine for two whole weeks when my children were 6 months, three, five and seven.... I had to do LOTS of interpretive dancing....
ReplyDeleteI was just thinking how impossible this situation would be if small children were involved. Mum used to lose hers in the school holidays (she was a teacher). I must ask her how she coped with us.
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