From October3rd, 2006(about 3 and a half weeks after my damn sugery)
Letter to my voice (I still had a scratchy voice)
When will my voice come back? When? Please, voice, come back. Just the way you were-just come back so I can sing again. I don't have to sound like Aretha Franklin, I just want to sing without sounding like f-ing Peter Brady.. I just want to be able to speak without using up all my damn breathe and energy. Voice, just come back and I promise I'll never wish you sounded different. I just want to sound like me. *However, voice, if you are changing permanently, at least be sexy like Marilyn.(Monroe not Manson) But seriously voice, just come back from where ever you are. I need you.
I still don't have my old/real voice and I complain about that to anyone who'll listen at least once or twice a day. I don't sound like Peter Brady anymore and that's good. My surgeon says to wait a few more months for my nerves to repair but I'm doubtful. I should be thankful that I can speak at all. But I miss my old voice. I used to be able to change it to suit the situation.(I don't mean baby talk-I hate when couples do that-grosses me out and makes me wonder what kind of issues are really laying there under the surface-but that's a story for another day) I can't make the funny voices I used for reading stories and imitating people behind their backs. I can't make it softer for asking for favors. I can't yell at my husband and my dog. I can't scream if a psychopath tried to kidnap me. (I know,I know, this is a bit paranoid but wait til I tell ya'll about the time a creepy man scared me at the pool in my neighborhood one day)
I've been told by everyone that they don't notice the difference. But I do, I've been listening to it for 30 years, I should know. This isn't a pity party. I am very thankful for how well things turned out. I just found that page in my diary and thought it was funny. I'll try to remember the creepy man at the pool story for another day.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Excerpt from my personal diary
Her Royal Highness LittlePea at 4:12 PM
Labels: my f-ing voice, thyroid cancer
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3 comments:
You are really getting good at this blog thing, MsPea, it's great to see you posting more often.
I love the fact that you imitate people behind their backs. I have faith you will get your voice back!
I lost my voice earlier this week for a few days (and no reason!) and I was completely mute. I, too, thought about how I would scream if met by a madman. Thankfully it didn't happen.
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