"These are the times that try men's souls." - Thomas Paine
Normally I have an extremely positive demeanor, but I never realized that not being able to talk, and thus being deprived from basic human interaction, would create such an isolated and lonely feeling.
Just 48 hours post surgery, I am struggling with my sanity. This is much harder than I anticipated. I just want to say, something. Anything.
Rachel and I have been getting along by using the whiteboard for impromptu thoughts and questions and a text to voice app on my iPhone when I really need to say something. But is it not the same as just uttering simple words like "I love you," "good night," or "thank you." The dogs respond to hand gestures that accompany the the normal voice commands.
Its not that I can't speak. The images taken of my vocal cords after surgery indicate that the papilloma were completely removed. So that means that if I were to speak, my vocal folds would come together (instead of letting air pass through) and I would produce audible tones. It is just that I should not speak if I want the recovery to go as quickly as possible. Speaking, and allowing the vocal cords to come together, will just irritate the situation and prolong the return to normal. This is one recovery that I can't afford to rush.
My throat is still very sore, although I can swallow today without pain. My tongue is still numb so I can't really taste anything. The drainage in my throat is marginally less than yesterday. Everything above and below my neck feel great:)
Oh and I how I miss food. I long for something crunchy. The triumphant return of cereal later this week will be a milestone in my recovery.
I appreciate how delicate life is and how precious something like your voice is and how it is not until you can't speak that realize how important it is to your daily life. The moral of the story is to not take anything for granted in life. I know that this is easier to type, than do.
I am hoping that a return to running tomorrow will help with the endorphins that I am clearly missing.
Being able to turn to my words has been a therapeutic way of expressing my thoughts, emotions and what I am going through, regardless if they go unread by anyone else.