Those who know me in 3D know how much I love to talk. I can talk for hours. I talk to everyone I meet. Give me the opportunity, and I will talk to a group of people at the drop of a hat. If anyone asks what I’m good at, I will tell them–talking.
That said, the last couple of days have put a dent in my conversations. There is something wrong with my throat, some weird little tickle that pops up when I talk. It has been a great burden. I have to cough to clear the tickle, and if I don’t cough, it feels like I’m chocking. Sometimes it helps to suck on a throat lozenge. Sometimes a few sips of water takes care of the issue. Even better is a cup of hot water with some honey and brandy.
Last night I was a reader in a Maundy Thursday production at our church. Three of us readers sat in the back of the church, with microphones, and read our parts. My part was rather dramatic. I had practiced, and since I hadn’t had a problem with my throat earlier in the day, I headed out to do my part. Just after the first piece, I could feel the tickle. I got a throat lozenge out and sucked mightily. After the second piece, I started coughing. Fortunately, the lady in charge of this production brought me a cup of water. It really was a God-send. That water and the throat lozenges got me through the rest of the evening. I put my heart and soul into concentrating just on my part and didn’t join in on the group recitations. A number of people complimented me afterwards on how much my dramatic reading added to the evening. I could only thank God as I couldn’t have done it on my own.
Resting overnight, and talking very little this morning, I felt fine to head out to the grocery store. We were in need of a few items and I needed to restock my throat lozenge supply. I zipped around the store, picking up items on my list, smiling at other shoppers, all the time doing well. No tickle.
I got into a long checkout line. Another checker opened up so I zipped over to that line and unloaded my groceries. The cashier greeted me and asked about my day. I started talking. The tickle started. I swallowed. I choked back the tickle for as long as I could. I had to cough. But not loudly. The tickle got more persistent. A few more coughs. I paid my bill, took the receipt. The bagger was chattering at me about my day. I normally would have replied, but could only nod my head and hurry to the door.
By the time I was outside, I had to cough–a lot. Tears were streaming down my face. The tickle was maddening. It would not let up. I got my groceries loaded into the car and found my water bottle in the front seat. I sat there for minutes, trying to regain some equilibrium, drinking water, dabbing at my eyes.
Too much talking. I will remain mute the rest of today and see how tomorrow goes. Easter Sunday may find me indoors, at home, away from people who will tempt me to do my favorite thing–talk.