Croaking.

March 30, 2017.

I am still croaking.    
Today is Laryngitis Day 14.  

The Dr. shrugged wisely and softly suggested, "rest your voice" which I'm pretty sure means "shut the hell up" in doctor talk.  So I did.  For three days.  I holed up in the RV and typed and read and researched and watched waaaay too many stupid game shows and did you even KNOW there are STILL Soap Operas on daytime tv? This is mind-boggling news to me.  Whaaat is with the lingering shots of people staring off into space?  They're still doing that?! How 1972!  (Last time I saw a Soap Opera, apparently).

Anyway, I can't talk make noise so when I'm all hush hush around our friends, I find that slowly, we're deep in a quiet conversation, leaning forward and being all serious and good listeners and then ... they all start whispering.  If you're really in need of free entertainment, try this. I guarantee it will work.  Great party trick. Then you'll all burst out laughing because it's just human nature. I pretty much laff so hard I can't squeak out a word the next day.  But it's worth a good chuckle, ya gotta laff at yourself, right?

Anyway, I try not to talk at all, sooo when I do spurt out partial words (like, "harooo?" when the 'phone rings), it takes a few sentences before real sound comes out.  I can hear the silence of the people who call me and are clearly thinking, "WTF?".  

Zuma thinks it's great because she pretty much doesn't listen anyway. Even the hand signals are being ignored.  Because, apparently, my hands speak volumes even if they're just fluttering fingers.  

So, Gentle Readers, I am pretty sure this is THE END and they're plotting to remove all my insides and stuff me with straw because I have a 'strained larynx' and doctors freak me out.

I just wanted to share that with ya'll, because, yeh, I can type but I still can't talk.




#laryngitisishilarious, #ontheroadwithzuma