We got into the ferry lineup nice and early yesterday morning, to be sure not to miss the sailing I wanted. Then I took Her Highness for a walk, returning just as the ferry arrived and we were parked in the very front so we had a great view during the crossing.
I’d pre-loaded my speaking software to explain that I I had an 11:00 am appointment for the clerks at the clinic. I also pre-loaded my order for the White Spot. I’m glad it was such a nice day! I can handle anything in bright sunny weather.
Everything went excellently. There was no lineup whatsoever at the clinic. I rolled in, parked, and went directly through the process without a hitch. People don’t even blink when they discover I can’t talk; their ready acceptance and warmth completely set me at ease. I had my iPad, pen and paper at the ready, it was easy. But… I need to improve my handwriting. And I've had no reaction—well, my arm, where I got the shot, feels slightly bruised, but there's no rash and I feel absolutely fine. (It was Pfizer.) I go for my second shot at the beginning of August.
When I write notes for people, I go too fast so as not to keep them waiting and my script becomes illegible. I may be better off typing on my iPad.
It’s weird to be mute. I can’t even make sounds, really. Nothing comes out at all, but when I’m here at home and using video conferencing with a trusted friend, I can speak. It’s slow, and there are glitches, but it’s more efficient than writing. It’s exceptional for me that I can say words and make sounds with Dwight, Bruce—and all my friends. This afternoon, Merrill and Leo are coming over for drinks at four. I’m confident about how I’ll do because they’re coming here (not me going to them), and because I got words out with them the other day.
Soon, I’ll have been in this “locked up” state for a month. This ain’t no flare up I don’t think. But I don’t care. One plays the cards one is dealt, right? The comfort with which I can get by without speaking makes this condition easy to accept.
I’m very excited about my appointment with Dr. Shoja tomorrow. It’s first thing in the moring. I’m very keen to hear her comments about why C-PTSD or FND (functional neurological disorder) worsens.
Yesterday evening, I watched one of my all-time favourite films, Enchanted April. I think last night was the third time I’ve watched it. It’s such a pretty, happy, positive film, and the actors are great—it’s a very small company of actors telling a very contained and lovely story. And the scenery! My God! It’s Italy in April.