Evidently, I’m nicer without a voice. At least according to Hudson. In his kindest, most sincere way, he told me yesterday, “Mommy, you’re nicer when you can’t talk.”
It’s been nearly 48 hours since I’ve spoken or sang or yelled or whispered. After Friday’s vocal cord surgery, my family has clearly enjoyed a quieter house with my TEN DAY sabbatical from talking. At all. That means not even whispering. (I know, my doc has NO idea what he’s asking of me.)
(the bottom note is Basden’s writing – “Love TJ”)
These notes are fluttering around my home, finding their way to my nightstand and bathroom counter. I’m comforted by the sweet messages, despite my entire family’s glee that I’m now a captive audience to anything and everything they want to tell me – uninterrupted. My mom especially finds this amusing.
A few things I’m learning…
– Corbin can currently relay stories without being interrupted. In fact, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself Friday evening as he told our moms about some doctors he works with and I wasn’t able to interject. He kept looking at me, waiting for me to add my comments, and he looked quite perplexed not to be interrupted. (I’ve decided to infer that he and I are a team and my opinions HELP him…)
– Basden has the gift of compassion. When she realized the night before my surgery what would happen and that I couldn’t talk for more than a week, she wouldn’t leave my side. I found her crying twice because she didn’t want me to have to go to the hospital. She cried because I wouldn’t be able to read her books on the trampoline (which we’ve done once), and I wouldn’t be able to tuck her in and pray for her at night. We decided my silent prayers are as effective as the spoken ones. Basden has also become mommy to Esther since I’m not fully functional. This isn’t totally new behavior, but it certainly is exaggerated this week.
– At 36, it’s an awesome thing to still be taken care of by our parents! My parents AND Corbin’s parents are all here, taking care of us with meals and movies and just bringing fun and laughter into our home. Charles and Jamie were coming in for spring break and I surprised them with scheduling this surgery while they’re here to help. Ha! We all enjoyed dinner together Thursday night around our dining room table, and there’s nothing quite like eating and laughing with both sets of our parents.
– Mom and Jamie were both at the hospital all day Friday with me, and it was a flashback to all those hospital trips for babies. I always felt comforted having both moms (grandmoms!) with me, with prayers of the matriarchs in my hospital room during the deliveries of these precious kiddos. It was quite odd to be discharged from the hospital Friday, wheelchair and all, without a baby in my arms.
– There are a lot of people in our city (every city) with deep physical needs. Even in a pre-surgery groggy state as the happy cocktail surged through my IV, I was acutely aware of the people around me who were undergoing surgery for things not nearly so simple as a polyp on their vocal cords.
– Below is my new companion, my never-leave-home (or the room!) – without-it dry erase board. (Thanks, Mom!) The funniest thing about this form of communication is that the kids are writing their messages to ME on this. They’ll come in and ask me a question by WRITING it out. Perhaps they’ve forgotten I can still hear?? And yesterday morning I answered the door to a repair man. Upon motioning (and then writing) that I couldn’t speak, he started whispering and gesturing right back to me. Several minutes passed before he realized I could hear just fine and he could speak normally to me. He laughed at himself, embarrassed, and even called to tell his wife about it. Funny funny!
Finally, a picture from breakfast this morning – thank the Lord for a daddy who likes to cook big breakfasts!
See those happy faces?! Smiles that seem to say, “We’ve got NICE MOMMY this week!”