I woke up yesterday morning and discovered that my voice had snuck out during the night, leaving me with some froggy, scratchy thing that doesn’t sound much like me.  For someone who relies on the voice as much as I do, it’s a bit disconcerting.  This morning it is even worse.  I have no idea what’s cause it, though I suspect it may be allergies and hayfever, but even that should not account for this bizarre sound coming from my throat.

Much of my teaching is based on discussion and interaction with my students.  I use examples, tell stories, give direction, ask questions.  I converse for lengthy periods of time with my students before and after class.  I guess it’s fortunate that this is finals week and there is less lecture and discussion required.

Not having a voice makes me feel strangled or gagged.  imagerefIt’s a feeling of weakness and victimhood that I absolutely abhore.  There is little that will upset me more than feeling as if I am at the mercy of someone or something else.  I’ve worked hard in my life not to be a victim, to remove that mindset from my patterns of thinking and to be fully responsible for all aspects of my life.  That is part of what is so annoying about this laryngitis thingy – I have no control over it and no idea from whence it arrived.  I’d scream, but it would sound like I was gargling marbles.  imagerefTalk about defeating the purpose.

Interestingly, I tried to writer earlier this morning and found that I couldn’t form the words I wanted; as if my loss of voice was as much psychic as physiologic.  I fixed myself a lovely mug of honey and lemon teaimageref, slathered my throat with Mentholatumimageref and pulled on a warm, soft hoodie.  I don’t plan to answer the phone today, and I’ll go steam myself in the shower after my workout this afternoon.  Hopefully by this evening, when it’s time to go to work and converse with students and other faculty, I’ll have something resembling a voice instead of this frog running on sandpaper.


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