Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Update: one tired-of-not-speaking Cheeky
And cranky - very cranky. At one point over the weekend, I was mouthing things to the dear husband for him to repeat in full voice to a table full of relatives, and he was not doing what I was asking. Lucky for him, I have taken a vow to not kill a human during this calendar year. I had hoped that after feeling so powerless when I was first diagnosed with cancer and then the 'pearl' in my skull, that I would not feel that way for a while longer - hopefully, decades. (Or at least until that first IRS audit.) Watching him look at me and shake his head that he was not going to say what I wanted to say (maybe it didn't fit in the conversation; maybe he had other things he wanted to interject into the fray; maybe I was talking crazy in his viewpoint - not sure which of those or other things apply to this situation), I realized that powerless is with me again, and that it would be me and a notepad full-time if I don't get these vocal cords fixed/healed/replaced with bionic parts. Sure, I should have taken a notepad and large Sharpie to conduct my own conversations (and maybe written the messages on dear husband's forehead). Next time, I will bring along my own Harpo Marx horn, and really make a scene. Trying to figure out how to fit one of those into my next string of lectures, set for the end of this month...
Don't set up any voodoo dolls with the image of Mr. Cheeky - to him, it wasn't that big of a deal, I am sure. (I may duct tape his lips sometime soon and show him a bit of how I felt - not sure, yet.) But if I could have had Firestarter's powers for just 10 seconds, the entire table full of relatives would have gone up in flames. Not wishing any real bad things on family - just a slight toasting. It was bad enough that we were meeting at a barbeque place for lunch - and one of my favorite from 20 years ago - leaving me to have ice water as the only thing on my menu of choice. (Do they not remember that I have not had this type of food for the past 3 years? Or maybe they figure I was just being picky. I know - let it roll off, no big deal, my problem and no one else's.) I should have just skipped the whole thing, but there was a new date in one of our relative's life, and we were asked to meet them. I am REAL certain that I made a wonderful impression - ahem. I can hear the conversation as they drive home: "No, it isn't hereditary, and besides, she is only my sister by marriage. She had that brain surgery a couple of years ago - it might have caused a stroke is what we're thinkin'. " Next time, I will stay home and send my regrets. Realizing that staying home was my only true choice also brings to the fore the possibility that I may be staying home more and more, if my limitations increase. I worked so very hard after both of my previous surgeries to return to whatever level of normal that I could do and still be a taxpayer. Right now, I don't know where I can put my stubbornness and willpower, except for the not-talking part. I go back to work in my silent office tomorrow, and get strobe-scoped in the afternoon. I will post any updates here.