The Sound of Silence
Last I wrote, I was voiceless, and by Tuesday my voice was still a croaky, hoarse mess. Concerned, I called in sick to work and went to the doctor. There I was informed that I had a common cold and laryngitis. The doctor explained that my "angry" vocal chords were swollen and red and that they needed warm moisture and rest. "Vocal rest" to be exact, which is a fancy way of saying that I was forbidden to speak. I have been silent since Tuesday. While this is a total inconvenience, it is a necessary evil as every time I grunt, hum, speak, or moan I'm stressing my already stressed vocal chords. Since my illness isn't bacterial, there were no antibiotics to prescribe. I did receive a prescription for Nasonex, which was supposed to help with my congestion and mucous, but when I found out the drug was $80 for generic with insurance, I canceled it. Supposedly it's over $100 without insurance!
Nasonex is the drug with those stupid commercials featuring that idiotic Latin lover bee. EIGHTY DAMN DOLLARS for that stupid fucking bee! The Pharmacist advised me that I could call my insurance company or my doctor, but without a voice the suggestion was futile. I cried all the way home and ended up buying some Theraflu for like $5. Lesson learned. The saddest part is that my going out last Saturday is totally what did me in. I bit the bullet and bought a humidifier, which will be helpful in our dry SoCal climate anyway, and my room this Saturday morning is a balmy tropical paradise. My vocal chords love it. Tonight is my friend Aaron's birthday party and I want to go, but I don't want to further exacerbate an already frustrating situation. I've been typing and texting and emailing this week. I smile and nod a lot. This entire situation has resulted in an interesting social experiment; I feel bad when strangers try to engage me and I can only smile and nod. This happened in the elevator at work with the FedEx man, the cashiers at Target, RiteAid, and Albertson's, and with my neighbors. I went back to work on Thursday and posted a note on my door explaining my situation. My boss seemed to love it because I couldn't talk back to him. I was able to get a lot of work done: I sent tons of emails, and found it quite effective. It's interesting in an office setting because some people would talk to me like I was slow, and occasionally my boss would nod back at me, like he couldn't speak either. Not being able to speak has forced me to find other ways to communicate. Smiling helps because while silence can be interpreted as rudeness, a warm smile quashes any such assumptions. However, not having a voice has made me into a bit of a recluse. I lay on the sofa and hide in the apartment. I'm afraid to be around people because I can't talk to them, at the same time, I yearn to be around people. Ugh. Well, hopefully my voice will be back and lovely as ever in time for the party tonight. And I won't be hanging around smokers and maybe I won't even drink. Maybe I'll be totally sober.
But I'll take some cold medicine beforehand.
Yes. That'll do.
Nasonex is the drug with those stupid commercials featuring that idiotic Latin lover bee. EIGHTY DAMN DOLLARS for that stupid fucking bee! The Pharmacist advised me that I could call my insurance company or my doctor, but without a voice the suggestion was futile. I cried all the way home and ended up buying some Theraflu for like $5. Lesson learned. The saddest part is that my going out last Saturday is totally what did me in. I bit the bullet and bought a humidifier, which will be helpful in our dry SoCal climate anyway, and my room this Saturday morning is a balmy tropical paradise. My vocal chords love it. Tonight is my friend Aaron's birthday party and I want to go, but I don't want to further exacerbate an already frustrating situation. I've been typing and texting and emailing this week. I smile and nod a lot. This entire situation has resulted in an interesting social experiment; I feel bad when strangers try to engage me and I can only smile and nod. This happened in the elevator at work with the FedEx man, the cashiers at Target, RiteAid, and Albertson's, and with my neighbors. I went back to work on Thursday and posted a note on my door explaining my situation. My boss seemed to love it because I couldn't talk back to him. I was able to get a lot of work done: I sent tons of emails, and found it quite effective. It's interesting in an office setting because some people would talk to me like I was slow, and occasionally my boss would nod back at me, like he couldn't speak either. Not being able to speak has forced me to find other ways to communicate. Smiling helps because while silence can be interpreted as rudeness, a warm smile quashes any such assumptions. However, not having a voice has made me into a bit of a recluse. I lay on the sofa and hide in the apartment. I'm afraid to be around people because I can't talk to them, at the same time, I yearn to be around people. Ugh. Well, hopefully my voice will be back and lovely as ever in time for the party tonight. And I won't be hanging around smokers and maybe I won't even drink. Maybe I'll be totally sober.
But I'll take some cold medicine beforehand.
Yes. That'll do.
posted by Eileen at 10:24 AM
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