Losing one's voice is interesting. I'm learning that first-hand. My voice is still pretty much non-existent, other than a whisper when I try to speak. I did some Internet research on laryngitis earlier today and found there are numerous causes, and the condition can be serious. Never again will I take this condition lightly. It's not a good thing for anyone to have, and if it goes on long enough, I'll need to see a specialist. You're supposed to 'rest the throat' meaning 'don't answer the phone when it rings, let the answering machine get it if your hubby isn't home' ... and don't try to tell that same hubby what he missed on the news. It'll run again at 11:00 and he can hear it then. In other words, keep your mouth closed ... No Talking. You're also supposed to 'hydrate' yourself. In a woman my age that means, 'drink a lot of fluids and fully expect to be running to the bathroom every time you get comfortable'. And that all means, 'count it all joy'. Be grateful I have a husband who cooks & cares for me and that I'm in a safe home where I can make hot tea with lemon & honey and that I can rest whenever I feel like it. Yes, count it all joy.
What runs through my mind from time to time is my Dad having throat cancer years ago and how he dealt with not being able to speak for awhile. He was blessed that radiation cured it, but he went through great pain and suffering before that happened. We moved him into our home and five days a week for six weeks I drove him to U of M for his appointments and radiation treatments. I sat up with him at night when he had coughed up blood and could barely call my name to help him. I cleaned his face and put a fresh shirt on him and I told him, when he was ready to stop the radiation, that I hadn't brought him to my home to die ... he was going to live and that's all there was to it. And live he did. Thanks be to the good Lord.
At the end of Dad's treatments, as he was going for a final check-up, I went along to see my Dr. at U of M and found out I had pneumonia. All the time spent caring for Dad had set me back a notch and I was one sick puppy for awhile. I ended up in bed for a week and Dad was now well enough to go home to Ohio. I cried when he left, and I was hurt that he would go home while I was now the one in bed! But there wasn't really much he could for me had he stayed. I had my husband and two sons to look after me and in the long-run, I was thankful my Dad was still alive and cancer free.
It's odd the things we think about when we're dealing with health issues, isn't it? It's during these times we can learn so much that we wouldn't learn otherwise....like counting it all joy and meaning it because our Father means good for us, regardless of what we may be going through. He sees the beginning from the end and it's all meant for His glory and our good. He knows the steps I take and He orchestrates our lives into a beautiful symphony that sometimes, only you and He can hear.
Blessings to you all.