I've bragged in the past about how healthy I am. "My health is my wealth", I've been known to say. No major surgeries, delivered 3 healthy babies naturally on the 3 occasions I was in the hospital, and, as my mother-in-law always says - "I have all my original parts". Even my teeth are the O.G. since the baby teeth fell out so many southern moons ago. Of course I do not take credit for my good fortune - all praise belongs to God and His gracious appointment of my genes through my parents; and a relatively clean lifestyle.
Well, I never get the flu shots; probably have had the flu twice in my 51 years. And generally, while others around me are hacking and coughing up their spleens during the cold season, I remain unaffected. But - I do have my own Achilles' heel when the cold does hit me... my throat. I come down with a dreaded case of laryngitis that has me sounding like Marlon Brando in The Godfather; worse, actually.
It happens so suddenly - it's scary. Last week, as my coworkers were blowing their noses and sneezing themselves blue, I was under a stealth attack. And the germie germs behaved like some sophisticated time bomb operation. I felt NOTHING when I walked out of the office on Friday and rolled out of the parking lot - ready for the weekend. Sure, I was getting a little hoarse, but nothing to be alarmed about. I was just going to brew a little tea, grab some throat soothies and be straight. It wasn't until I'd been home a few hours that I realized my voice box (and therefore the music box) had shut down for real. I was in shock. How could this happen to one who is usually so "in tune" with herself? And how in the world was I going to perform at the function at the junction later that evening? (Oh yeah, there was this thing that night, right?)
It wasn't the end of the world, I got backup for the event. But later as I sat there, enjoying the music, the singing, the atmosphere - I felt this strange sensation overtake me and I was on the edge of panic. "I can't participate!" It was frustrating like you cannot believe! (maybe you can) The feeling was akin to being disabled. I realized how much I depend on my ability to speak, complete with volume control, in order to interact effectively with everyone. And oh how I wanted to interact with everyone at that moment! Brotha Wynn was patient, leaning in close to hear my whispers...but whenever I wanted to communicate something that required emphasis - that was tough! Watching my family watch me struggle to get my messages across was...different. I could see from their faces they pitied me - which enraged me somewhat - and then my body language kicked in full force. I came up with some interesting sign language, I'm sure... Seemed like the more I gesticulated, the more amused they became.... AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!
It's Sunday, and I'm home alone. (I think they needed time away from me! HA!) With my trusty PC, I am feeling at one with myself because there do be anotha way to skin this kitty! I've got my music mix flowin (Marvin Gaye is croonin "If I Should Die Tonight")... the tea, with honey and lemon at my right, the box of tissues at my left. My fingers are very happy as I do this other thing that comes naturally on this keyboard.
My throat is feeling better, loosening up - and I believe I'll be able to speak my mind in my true voice by morning. I'm content, in the meantime, to remain silent, and let my fingers do the talking
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