Maybe I'll just mouth it...

When I was in fifth grade I came home with a progress report which was straight A's except for the B marking in the behavior column next to which my harried teacher had scrawled: "She won't stop talking." My mother, ever the endless wit, signed the report, gave me a stern lesson on respect for teachers, and attached a sweet little note saying, "Don't worry, we have discussed our daughter's verbal diarrhea." The teacher, appreciative of my mother's creative support, decided to remind me of my illness every time I piped up just a tad too much... embarrassing.

Little to our knowledge at the time verbal diarrhea is more of a genetic disorder than an illness.

So occasionally, the Creator, in His infinite wisdom, allows me to contract some viral strain of nasty that directly attacks my vocal abilities. A divine dose of verbal pepto.

This past week I have had barely a croak and a whisper for a voice. When some students came to drop off their assignments at my house I thanked them with the breezy whisper I had and they, though perfectly capable of speaking normally, whispered back that I should take care of my body. When I picked up the phone and rasped a few answers to my colleague she complained about the phone static and then, understanding that it was my voice making those noises, she gasped and declared how bad it sounded. When I came across some other students out in the street as I was buying oranges in a desperate attempt to vitamin the cold away I smiled broadly hoping that they wouldn't prompt me to speak, but they did and I tried and they leaned in close and told me to drink more hot water. Bus drivers have given me double glances at the scratchy mess issuing out of my mouth, the grocery family expressed what I'm sure was real concern had I been able to understand Chinese, the tiny little five year old guest I often have literally stepped back away from my door in what appeared to be fear when I tried to answer her. 

Divine verbal pepto. Don't need to be talking with those reactions... anything I need to communicate can just be mouthed. Or texted... text me. (as a side note, the least encouraging text message I've ever gotten while being sick in my entire life: go to the doctor, staying at home is useless.)

But when you can't say much, you'd be stunned at what all you hear... ahhh the blessing (curse?) of ears.

My voice is returning, but I think in the future I'm just going to take days where I'll just mouth things... or just whisper... or just say nothing at all... and in so doing, I'm going to learn a great deal more.

My mother and fifth grade teacher would be proud.