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It’s really hard to keep things rolling when you lose your voice. You forget how much you chatter when you can’t speak above a whisper. For one, you can’t talk through bathroom doors. This really cramps my style. I can’t tell you how often I can be heard giving instructions or hollering out a warning mid-shower. This is a secret to the mom trade.

I also find it frustrating to hear all the questions I know an answer to, and not be able to answer them because they are coming from the other room.

“Can I play Wii for three hours today, Daddy?”

“What did Mommy say?”

“She didn’t say anything. I think she’d like it.”

I can’t chat on the phone with my husband while he’s at work–at least not easily. I can’t chat with my son and ask all those pertinent questions about his day while we putter around together, because he gets frustrated listening to the raspy whisper. I can’t call my friends back, who are probably convinced that I’ve either died of this flu or don’t love them anymore.

And while most people think, “Oh, a few more days and we’ll be back to normal around here,” I have this lingering (albeit irrational) doubt because I have an aunt who lost her voice for ten years. I’m not joking–a whole decade of whispering! Doctors didn’t know why. So I have this tiny part of me that thinks, “Oh crap! I’m going to have to learn sign language, teach it to my family, and save my best jokes for Facebook, because I’m going to be the Mute Author forEVER!”

Anyway. I’ll let you know when my voice comes back and I can holler through bathroom doors again. It’ll be such a relief!