Friday, March 6, 2015

The Baritone Frog

Dear John,
 
I've been home sick today - woke up with a nasty sore throat, which wouldn't have kept me home on a Friday even though I felt awful. But I have no voice at all. It's impossible to do my job with no voice. I got up and dressed and ate, hoping it would get better. But all I could do was make slight croaking noises. So I went back to bed and slept until noon. I must have needed the sleep.
 
I had a strange night last night; I suspect I was running a fever. For one thing, I slept in a summer nightgown and was hot and sweaty all night. And I kept dreaming that I went to work and got sent home because I was sick. My body must have known that something wasn't right. I also dreamed that I woke up and my hair was down to my waist. That's the dream that I wish had come true!
 
We had a quiet day around here. I slept another hour in the middle of the afternoon, drank tea with honey and ginger, and had a succession of animals sleeping in my lap. I didn't knit much - I felt too bad to knit, which is serious. The furbabies kept me company.
 
I have  a little bit of voice back, sort of like a baritone frog. I hope to be able to go to work tomorrow. My lymph nodes are so big that it's hard to swallow and I feel awful. But tomorrow will be busy and they need me to be there. We'll see what things are like in the morning. In the meantime, you're missing every man's dream - a wife with no voice! I know - you've never felt that way about me, and I'm glad. And I never felt that way about you. The hardest thing about your last month was that you couldn't talk. We need to get all of that caught up. When I get there with you, we'll sit down and talk for all eternity.
 
Missing your voice,
Joan.
 


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