Without a voice
September 25th, 2011
Once or twice a year, I get a debilitating case of pharyngitis. Normally it starts with a common head cold, and then it moves into the back of my throat and takes over my vocal cords. I say that it is debilitating because I literally cannot function as normal. Here I am, an eLearning “expert,” recommending to so many people how effective asynchronous online learning can be. But with no voice, literally, I cannot get through my work day.
My son’s school called. I answered the phone with a whisper, afraid that maybe he was hurt or sick, but I had to pass the phone to my husband, because I couldn’t communicate. Thankfully, it was just a question about a school committee I am on, but I panicked.
During a routine ID and SME course design kick-off call, I felt like a lurker, on Skype with the ID, while listening to the client make fun of me for not being able to “talk back.” The timing of my instant messaging was delayed just enough to make everyone on the call wonder why I was even there. That’s how I felt anyway.
I know I hurt the feel-feels of two different designers who were trying to get feedback from me on some initial layouts. As I got deeper into the conversations, I realized that my words, without my voice or physical presence, were not cutting it. The positive things I was saying about their work got buried with my ideas for subtle changes, because the inflection was not there and the timing of my typed ideas made for poor delivery.
And forget fully enjoying a good laugh, praying for my Grandfather the night before his surgery or singing in the shower. I was lost.
So as the Dr. started writing scripts to help get me talking again, I gladly accepted them. What was I going to do–question her? No. I got each of them filled and gladly gulped, sprayed and swallowed, desperate to talk again. To be heard again.
Everyone thought it was funny that I couldn’t boss my husband around for a day or two, but honestly, I think he was relieved when my voice came back this morning. He didn’t want to be my interpreter any longer, and not too many people like the silent treatment. On Monday I will get back with everyone, being much more careful of my “voice,” and a little more sensitive of the written word in place of the spoken word. And of course, I hope to be even more cognizant of those who cannot speak for themselves.






