Me and Miss Julie

Julie had the most glorious voice in the world.

I am a talker so having a broken voice has been a curse. Tomorrow is the last day of my eighth week with a broken voice. My current status with the medical community is that I am waiting to hear from "the system" for an appointment with an Ear, Nose & Throat (ENT) specialist.

I first went to my GP and he was certain that the problem was my inhaler and so I went off my inhaler and started on anti-fungals. My voice came back immediately but my breathing went from 600 (on a 700 scale) to under 400 and it was still declining when I saw my lung doctor. He put me back on the inhaler and added anti-fungal pills that are stronger than the liquid I got from my GP.  As soon as I went back on my inhaler, my voice left.

Until yesterday, testing my voice was part of my morning routine. On Wednesday last, when the same horrid noise came out of my mouth, I burst into tears. It was my first bout of self-pity about my voice and I knew I was really sad because I wanted my mommy or my daddy to make me feel better. I am 66 years old!

But I guess that had to happen. It paved the way for my "conversion."

I had a sad lunch with Dwight on Wednesday so he called me at noon yesterday to see how I was feeling and, on impulse, I dropped everything and joined him for another lunch. We went to s small and busy restaurant but we were at a small table. We talked and we laughed just like always and we agreed that as long as we could to that, everything was okay.

I still hope to be fixed of course, but I am over sitting at home waiting for the ENT to call and I can think about other things now. I have adapted. I accept and am I am moving on. I feel great about that.

I have cancelled every scheduled workshop and alerted Emily Carr that my summer term may tank. I have an appointment with my lung doctor on May 6th. If I haven't heard from the ENT by then, I get another crack at asking for an appointment and I may have to wait for weeks to get in.

It's been two months now and I face at least another month of this I think. Maybe more. I wonder what is ahead and I think about how Julie Andrews must have felt when she lost her ability to sing after an operation. These sudden imposed adaptations test us.