"Voices, Continued" or "Oops! I Pushed the Wrong Button!"

When I had a spare minute the other day I thought I would add a little more to my last blog post that was supposed to be saved as a draft. I saw comments needing to be moderated. I looked at the screen in confusion, "Why would I have comments?" Then it hit me. I must have published my last post. So if you are suffering from the inertia it may have created when it came to a quick halt, I apologize. Where was I?

Yes, no voice. For seven weeks. It may seem like nothing, but this is how we communicate with each other. I know what it feels like to have a disability. People have no idea if you are intelligent, kind, angry, rude, sarcastic or any other emotion. Whispers come out mono-toned, like texting, except you can use all caps when you text to put an emphasis on words. I had to get good at Charades so people would know what I was talking about, especially in noisy places. You should have seen the kid's face at KFC when I ordered the chicken breast.

It was by accident I found out I could say one word without a problem. I was describing the voices in my head and how they were sounding a lot like Yosemite Sam. So I said a word that sounds like "spit" and my voice came out normal. I realized I didn't have laryngitis - I have Turrets Syndrome. During these last two months I have had to go to a Speech Pathologist for voice therapy. Who has ever heard of such a thing? I had to go around sounding out "mmmmm" on an exhale. Then it progressed to "mooooo." If anyone had any doubt that I was insane, it was all out at that point.

So that has been my trial this year. I feel as if I am overcoming an illness and can see the light of day now. When I went to work today, my friends came in the office to hear me speak, because they said they forgot what I sounded like. Our volunteer that has been coming in for over a month had never heard my voice before. I can answer the phones again. I can call my Mama. I can laugh. Most of you probably didn't even notice.

Two Tonsillectomies

Have you ever been with someone that isn't very talkative? Do you feel the need to fill in for the lack of conversation and start talking incessantly and next thing you know you've told them your life story? Then you find yourself lying there on the floor in fetal position under the coffee table with your bishop's phone number on speed dial and you feel really stupid because this person knows everything about you and you know nothing about them? Me neither.


You may have noticed I haven't been around much since November. Well, without going into details that would even cause a maggot to barf let's just say I have had some issues. With my throat. The Mayor of Whoville and I have something in common, besides the fact that we're both Republican.He boasted that he had 2 tonsillectomies. In November, I had my second tonsillectomy as an adult. The first one was about 8 years ago. I knew what was coming. I knew just how bad it was going to be. I knew better than to try to eat Spagettios. I didn't know I would be struggling three months later with voice complications. I have spent six weeks out of the last three months with no voice. I see trying to communicate with people other than verbally a complication. Some see it as a blessing. Smart @$$es.

I clap my hands or whistle to get people's attention. I have to play Charades and try to get people to understand what I'm saying. I feel like an idiot. A frustrated idiot. So, I'm going to start using a dice with sayings on it so people don't have to guess what I'm saying. Since there are six sides I will only have six sayings. Of course, there are the two obvious answers, "yes" and "no". For crutial answers that need to be answered verbally, side 3 will read: "Read My Lips" also known as "I can't remember".

Side 4: "Whatever" or "Crickets Chirping" or "I did not inhale."

Side 5: "That doesn't even deserve an answer" or "Come a little closer so I can slap you."

Sides 6: "I heard you, I'm just ignoring you."

I have a lot to catch you up on, and since I'm spending much less time on the phone and giving public speeches I should have more time now.

When Vacuums Attack

There it is, looking innocent enough. But heed my warning.....it is an accident waiting to happen. Just like owning a pit bull, you'll never know if it will return to it's natural fighting instincts, jaws meant for locking down on the enemy. This is my Dyson Animal vacuum, aka the Dyson Pit Bull.
It's not like it was neglected. I took it out for a venture every once in awhile. Keeping it on it's leash - when it happened. It turned on me. As I was adjusting the bottom of it, the handle dropped down on my foot. You know the thing you wrap the cord around? Hit me right on the top of my instep. This is the freak attack we all fear and this is how it left me maimed and swearing. Actually, I didn't swear at all but I rolled around on the floor wailing for awhile.

Later that day, my true colors shone through. Shades of purple, pink and blue. That was one week ago. Today, it is blue, green and the purple now spreads halfway down my toes. I now have two insteps on my left foot. I went to the doctor three days after the accident and it was a little bit broken. Just the tip is kind of chipped. He gave me a pretty shoe but after four days I quit wearing it. It Velcros across the top and made it ache all day.

Vacuums are not our friends. They are dangerous species waiting to turn on you. No matter how pretty they look - beware. Because of this attack, I cannot even look at another vacuum without shaking and crying. I now have suck-a-phobia.

Friday Confessional

Ooops! I forgot to add the button of Glamazon, who is my new BFF.

Okay, for those who don't know, I have a confession. I really like those morbid mystery shows that solve crimes. Not the Hollywood kind, the true story kind. I watch them on TRU TV, and ID TV - love 'em! My husband and children ask, "Why do you like those shows about murder?" It's not about murder. It's about finding the murderer with DNA, forensic science and stuff. It's about me taking notes so I can hide their bodies and outsmarting the authorities.

So, my husband, Mr. Red Personality, Mr. Control Freak, brought me home some chocolates tonight. Does he think this makes up for him being a total @%*(&@# the other day? Even if they are Ferrero Rochers? Does he think that punching below the belt with total lies can be forgiven with 7 ounces of chocolate hazelnut goodness?

I'm suspicious now. I think he's trying to kill me. We all know that 7 ounces does not equal 7 ounces. I think he wants me to gain weight - a lot of weight. Then I might feel the need to exercise and being in the bad shape that I am I will most likely die. It would probably be a slow and painful death. First, labored breathing. Then flushing of the skin and breaking into a sweat. My heart would start pounding, pounding, pounding until it exploded. The death would look natural and he would get away with the perfect crime.

I'm writing this so the world can know if this happens, it was premeditated murder. Tell the coroner to look for a slight odor of bitter hazelnuts. Someone contact Keith Morrison of Dateline NBC to do a story on me. Please tell him I was well loved and very funny and don't let them say I died doing what I loved the most. I really hate that saying. Remember, they could only say that if I died choking on a piece of cheesecake.

Guess What I Found?

Not my sanity, but thanks for asking. Some things are better lost. I'm at home sick from work today. Not sick of work, I love it there. It's just that I answer the phones and I have absolutely no voice - barely a squeak and I have a coughing fit about every two minutes. I'm sure as much as they miss me at work, they are glad they aren't going to catch my germs. I wanted to post a picture to describe how ugly I looked this morning after coughing the entire night:

I hate getting photos taken when I don't have my make up on.

What the heck is that anyway? A dog-rat mixed with a demon?

I think I may have coughed that up, actually.

I've been spending some spare time on Facebook, catching up with old friends. A lot of people have been posting pictures from long ago calling it "Way Back Week." So I just had to post this picture from third grade. This is when my nickname was "Bucky Beaver". It's kind of sad, really, that and yellow has never been my color. Nothing like a homemade haircut ala Mom! What can I say? I had to fight the boys off from an early age.

So, back to what I found besides old photos. I decided to check out some other people's blogs by clicking on the "Next Blog" button at the top of the screen. There were some very interesting blogs, some cute blogs, some family oriented blogs and even a couple of spooky blogs. I FOUND I had something in common with almost all of them: I haven't been overly consistent in keeping up my blog. Almost all of them had an apology for not writing before their most recent entry. I thought it was just me having Blogger's block. The truth is sometimes you just don't have time or anything blog worthy.

We can just hope that the future looks better.

When Good Goes Bad

I've been contemplating whether I should write this post for a couple of reasons. One: I have no reason to complain. Two: It may seem arrogant. Three: Both topics are top secret. Please take it for what it is....embarrassing.

First: I've lost a significant amount of weight. I won't tell what my weight was or what I am now, but I went from a tight 14 to a loose 8. When people haven't seen me for awhile they are shocked. I didn't carry that amount of weight for long but long enough to do something about it. People ask me what my secret is. This is the bad part. I cringe when people ask me. I don't know how to answer that question. There was no secret. There's no pill. I'm not exercising my butt off. There's no diet plan. I'm not anorexic.

Why this is good gone bad? It's embarrassing to me because I don't have a great answer. I don't know if what I'm doing is healthy or not. I started off walking and weight training with Kevorki-Annie. Then I started work full-time and couldn't weight train with K.A. anymore because her night schedule was booked. I continued walking and when I took breaks at work I walked. Then I somehow lost my appetite. I know this is every woman's dream and it was mine. I started feeling nauseated and really had to force myself to eat. Since I wasn't hungry, I made wise choices. Then I came up with a philosophy: I'm not active at night and therefore I don't need the caloric intake. I eat my "large" meal at lunchtime and only have a snack or small meal at dinner. I haven't deprived myself of anything - treats, chocolate, etc.

It's a complicated answer and I hate explaining. It's a little embarrassing when people are shocked and make a fuss, but I'm happy to be 7 lbs under my goal weight and would like to lose another 7 and stop. I also am embarrassed because I got to the weight I did and you will never see before shots! Do I think others should be embarrassed of their weight? Absolutely not. But I feel I was very unhealthy and could see myself heading for onset Type 2 diabetes, heart disease or something else. My sweet husband says he liked me with more of a booty.

When good is bad again: (Co-workers, say nothing.) There is a sweet lady that works at my work who is going through a very rough time. She is so wonderful to the clients in spite of her personal life in shatters. I know she struggles financially in this bad time and I felt impressed to anonymously give her money. I put $20 in an envelope and put her name on it.

I am blessed and my income is extra - I only work for the health benefits. My husband is self-employed - need I explain about benefits. We're not rich but we live within our means, our needs and wants are taken care of and we don't have any debts except the mortgage. This sweet lady comes into our office and asked if we knew anything about the envelope given to her. The secretaries said no and asked why. She said, "Someone gave me a very generous gift and I wanted to thank them." Then her eyes filled with tears and she said if we find out tell them thank you for her.

Why this is bad? I should have given more. $20 is nothing and I should have dug deeper. Even though she was grateful - I feel bad that I didn't give more. The purpose of sharing this story is you may have the opportunity for service, so don't forget to dig deep.

Okay, so another freakin' serious post. I think I need to ban myself from blogging under the influence of melancholy. I'm still trying to channel my "Carol Burnett" and put away this "Socrates" (or is it actually Confusius - "He who stand on toilet is high on pot.")

The Last Supper

We got together with friends last night and went to dinner at one of our favorite little Chinese places. We always look forward to the fortune cookie. Well, mine was really lame and I was whining about it, so Di gave me the one she was going to give her husband. So I traded. Just so you know, soon, I will receive pleasant news. What is with fortune cookies and horoscopes these days? The economy must be so bad, even the psychics are being frugal with their luck. Last time I had to work for what I wanted.

At dinner the subject of "my predicament" of being left handed came up. I assured them I was becoming quite ambidextrous.

Well, I'm almost off to get my hand surgically modified. I hardly slept last night so I'm looking forward to the anesthesia. I thought about the guy who went to the hospital to have his leg amputated and they cut off the wrong one. I'm thinking about writing "CTR" on my left hand. Though my surgeon is a transplant from the south and he probably doesn't know what that means.

Thank you for all your well wishes! I really, really appreciate it!

Anxious About Arthroplasty

Well, only a week and a half and I will be having surgery on my right hand. This would be my dominant hand. I'm looking forward to having my hand feel better, but I'm not looking forward to the initial pain of having a bone taken out of my wrist. I've read that this surgery is usually very successful and people have increased strength in their grip. I won't bore you with all the details, but if you're interested you can have a peek at this.

I do need to say I'm much too young for arthritis. I told the Orthopedic Surgeon that it's an old hitch-hiking injury. I actually have a bone spur on my wrist bone. They're going to do "Excisional Arthroplasty" and put a piece of tendon from my forearm in it's place. Ewww! I lied about not sparing you the details.

In preparation for my surgery, I've been practising doing things with my left hand. I'm very afraid! Do you know how hard it is to use your left hand for things? How am I going to put deodorant on my left armpit? I have some visuals, but you wouldn't want me to share them. I don't know how I would get back up off the floor anyway.

Can mascara actually blind you? My hair!!! My physical appearance is at stake! My personal hygiene is going to go to pot.

BUT....

Here's the worst thought.......how am I going to wipe my......oh crap! I mean - I've been trying it out and I may need to hire a royal butt wiper. I know, I should use my friends for that to give them the chance to serve their fellow being - and many have offered mind you. BUT (everyone I know has one) I just couldn't let them. I'm one of those type of people that if I hired a cleaning lady I would have to clean before she got here. The good news is I still have a week and a half to keep practising.

If you're still talking to me after all this information I would appreciate any form of entertainment for the week and a half I will be home. Except for the day I scheduled going to the dentist (I figured if I was going to be on pain killers already - what the heck!) I should have some really fun postings when I'm under the influence. Remember this from my last surgery?

Lucky Me!!!

I guess I'll start with the bad luck! I was complimented for my gag reflex when my family doctor stuck four needles in my throat. I was complimented again when the ENT stuck a soap carving hook down my throat. I get to be one of the few and unlucky (second patient in his 9 year career) who have reoccuring tonsil problems after you have your tonsils removed. Okay, so I didn't throw up when they stuck things in my throat, but when the ENT showed me a video - without warning me first - of a tonsillectomy, I really almost lost it. I could feel my stomach contracting and my mouth started watering. I won't describe what I saw, because it may just start me heaving again. He offered to do a minor surgery in his office that day, but lucky I had friends coming for dinner and I couldn't.

Okay - the good luck! I've been surrounded by great friends all this week! Family on Sunday evening, New Year's Eve, my BFF Karen and family for dinner last night, lunch with Princess Na'alie today.....it was nice seeing your royal hiney! Does life get any better? It stirred up memories of having a social life at one time - before I became the full-time working woman. When I was a lady of leisure, going to the country club, eating Bon bons, tennis with Sven, and watching Oprah. Reality check - that never happened! Bon bons are gross anyway.

So Princess Nat and I went out for Thai food. The funny part of that is the appetizers we had, which was Immodium. It was worth it though. Nat, you don't mind me talking about your diarrhea problem do you? Just Kidding! Royalty don't have those kind of problems, we have people for that. We always look forward to the fortune cookie and my fortune said, "You know what you want - get to work to make it materialize." I think I got the wrong fortune. Unless I'm getting that Audi.....and will be working for the rest of my life. Why did it have to say "get to work" and not "magic genie will deliver"?