The Experience of Verbal Impotence

For the last three days, I have been an involuntary mute. Last Monday, after a glorious trip to Baltimore sandwiched between two frustrating airline trips, I came down with the Plague. Or merely the respiratory, non-lethal version of it. I'm pretty sure that this man behind me on the plane gave it to me. He was hacking the entire trip, from delayed departure to the eventual late landing. I think it was just waiting, incubating in me all day Sunday. Anyway, starting Monday afternoon, I began to feel icky. This quickly turned to really shitty and remained that way right up until Friday. New Year's Eve was spent napping and crochetting, while Arlo made dinner. This was actually probably the highlight of the week, as he made a cheese and fruit plate, salad, crab legs, and potatoes. That man is a cooking machine! And bless his heart, he tried so hard to make this a fun night for me, while I was sitting, zombie-like, waiting to just go to bed. At this point, I had my voice still, but pretty much just used it to complain about how icky I felt. We were supposed to go to visit his mother and Mary, sister, niece, and nephew, but I was in no shape to travel. So, instead, we watched Stepbrothers and I napped until the stroke of midnight. We fell asleep shortly thereafter and I coughed my way into the new year. The next day was spent in a blur of napping, crafting, and watching movies (Wall E and I can't remember for the life of me what the other one was). Friday I went to work, grateful that I didn't have clients, as my voice was starting to get shaky at best. However, it wasn't until Friday afternoon when true mutism hit.

We had decided on Thursday that since we hadn't made it to his mom's and Mary's place for NYE, we were going to head there for the weekend. So, we hit the road straight from work, making it there for a late Fish Fry Friday night. We went to this great place, Club Oasis, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, hence the name. I tried to be healthy, ordering my fish broiled, only to find, yet again (I really should learn my lesson here), my fish swimming in a broiling pan of butter. Wisonsinites sure love their saturated fats! Anyway, it was lovely, and I spent the time listening, trying occasionally to participate with a nod or a short, whispered phrase, all while I sucked back tea so that I could get through the night with a minimum of coughing. This pretty much describes the rest of the trip. Others talking, interacting, and me, trying to stay involved but feeling so not myself. I never realized how much of myself and the way I am is wrapped up in talking. I wanted desperately to add to everything people were saying, to make comments like, "Oh, isn't that cute," when Lauren, Arlo's niece, was putting on her Dora outfits and demanding candy, and to respond to people's questions, especially when they were called to me from the other room. Although it was a fun trip, and except for the cough and mutism I was feeling fine, I felt like something was missing since I didn't have my voice. I felt rude to others because I couldn't adequately thank them for presents or respond to what they said. I felt pathetic because I had to make Arlo become my translator, tapping him on the shoulder and asking him to repeat loudly what I was saying in his ear. I know this may sound melodramatic, but I felt all of this because of the power of expression and the feeling of impotence when one doesn't have it. This is the most I have said in days, and it feels so good to get it out. Today I finally started writing things down to Arlo because I wanted to say something more than yes and no. I'm nervous about this week, because it's my first week of seeing a full client caseload and I have no voice. How can one do therapy with no voice?!?!?! The only thing I'm thinking is that this could be some kind of new, avant garde kind of therapy where the therapist says literally nothing and the client does all of the work. Could work. However, not sure it's the safest thing when working with paranoid schizophrenics. (Sigh.) Well, I should probably go. Arlo's going to be home soon with Marley, fresh from the baby-sitters. I am washing the sheets, something my mom always did when we were getting over being sick. Then, I'm going to think of something for dinner and try to enjoy the last few blissful hours of non-work part of my week.

As for my visit to Baltimore, here's the brief re-cap. I was able to spend Christmas Eve at Underwood with the Hollers, Phay, and Andrej, spent some time being entertained by Matthew and Grace who stopped by for the festivities, and wake up Christmas day surrounded by friends, though the group was quite a bit smaller than in previous years. Christmas day with the Brotmans was lovely, and my mom had all of our extended family for the evening, with more present-giving mayhem. The next day was pretty much spent with mom, shopping, hanging out, eating, and Friday night with the Blackfords, enjoying Taco Night. We had a great time, and Manders gave me a fabulous gift- the most beautiful hand-knitted mittens I have ever seen. Kevin, I'm glad you weren't there to rub it in my face how fantastic they were. :) And then Saturday, I went out for breakfast with Wendy and Tamira, got a fantastic hand-made bag from Wendy with a half-naked cowboy theme, and came home just in time to pack and head out. Another whirlwind trip to Baltimore. I don't have another trip planned right now, but I'm hoping that the next time I come home it will be for longer, or for good. :) And to everyone planning a visit, go ahead and start looking a flights now, but be forewarned that February and March can have some nasty weather.

Anyway, as I said before, I should be going. I hope all of you had a fantastic New Year's Eve, and I wish you all a happy and healthy year. Regarding my experience with involuntary mutism, it has left me with the following observations: 1. I talk a lot in my everyday life. 2. Much of what I have to say really isn't necessary, and often redundant, for, if I wait long enough, other people will say the exact same thing, and 3. Arlo asks a lot of questions.