The fates thought laryngitis was not enough. It�s not enough that loquacious me has whispered and rasped her way through the past week, making telephone communications improbable. No, one kind of silence is not enough. So the fates zapped the power supply to my computer.

For a day or two after my return from Detroit on Sunday, I did not care. I was at that part of The Crud that causes me to wonder whether I am dying. The thought that I might not die but might not recover either soon followed.

But today I care. I still can�t talk loudly or clearly and I can�t type either. I�m writing this entry in longhand (remember pens?) and hoping to get to work early enough to type and post this entry before people online start writing my obituary. I�m disconnected, isolated, and silent.

When I was in college, I was a special education major. I remember a professor asking what disability we feared most. Most people answered that they were afraid of going blind. Me, I feared deafness more. I feared the effect on communication. I feared the silence.

Now, here I am. I can hear but can�t talk. I�m having trouble communicating and I don�t know when I�ll be able to communicate again.

How long must I be silent?

Note: The computer tech says it may be another week. Sigh.

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