Ah so, into the silence I go: after a weekend sitting in air-conditioned hotel rooms in florida, I returned to Autumnal New York (read: cold, raining, windy 35 degrees) with a distinct scratch in my throat.
Monday in the office wasn't too bad, Tuesday I opted for riding easy on the rollers in the basement instead of the usual brisk run with Dennis, Wednesday I was noticably hoarse, achey and unable to think about getting on the bike..then cough ,sniffle, croak..and then, silence..
Today, I cancelled patients, unable to even whisper without feeling as if my throat was being slit. At 8am, I stopped in with my neighbor, my MD, Oppie, who took a look down my gullet (from the other side of the room mind you), and told me to go home. Or at least, shut up. That was it, no hallucinogenic drugs, no sedatives, no antibiotics. Just silence.
Being a Jewish New Yorker, I thought even HE might have some idea about how difficult is is to be completely without words, pantomiming my way through the day. But there I sat, sucking down Ricolas until my jaws ached, swallowing hot cups of peppermint tea after hot cups of chamomile tea, and filing papers, returning emails, sorting out office folders, dossing off on facebook, doing all the things that I put on the telescoping finger..all while my lovely staff stopped into my office to laugh, do some Marcel Morceau imitations and generally relish the fact that I was finally shut up.
Lunch at the Golden Pear was almost funny, writing my order (for porridge and honey) on napkins then noticing how the staff whispered back to me in low tones as if they too were struck by laryngitis..
As for tomorrow, we shall see: tonight some over-cooked pasta to suck down, some more Ricola's for desert, then a nightcap of Theraflu: I might squeeze out a couple of patient evaluations before my larynx decides to crap out totally for the weekend.
At least my urge to ride is returning, and I don' t need vocal chords to hit the woods on my singlespeed..
Here's to enjoying the silence, while it lasts..
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Def:"irony": being irish and without blather
Ah so, into the silence I go: after a weekend sitting in air-conditioned hotel rooms in florida, I returned to Autumnal New York (read: cold, raining, windy 35 degrees) with a distinct scratch in my throat.
Monday in the office wasn't too bad, Tuesday I opted for riding easy on the rollers in the basement instead of the usual brisk run with Dennis, Wednesday I was noticably hoarse, achey and unable to think about getting on the bike..then cough ,sniffle, croak..and then, silence..
Today, I cancelled patients, unable to even whisper without feeling as if my throat was being slit. At 8am, I stopped in with my neighbor, my MD, Oppie, who took a look down my gullet (from the other side of the room mind you), and told me to go home. Or at least, shut up. That was it, no hallucinogenic drugs, no sedatives, no antibiotics. Just silence.
Being a Jewish New Yorker, I thought even HE might have some idea about how difficult is is to be completely without words, pantomiming my way through the day. But there I sat, sucking down Ricolas until my jaws ached, swallowing hot cups of peppermint tea after hot cups of chamomile tea, and filing papers, returning emails, sorting out office folders, dossing off on facebook, doing all the things that I put on the telescoping finger..all while my lovely staff stopped into my office to laugh, do some Marcel Morceau imitations and generally relish the fact that I was finally shut up.
Lunch at the Golden Pear was almost funny, writing my order (for porridge and honey) on napkins then noticing how the staff whispered back to me in low tones as if they too were struck by laryngitis..
As for tomorrow, we shall see: tonight some over-cooked pasta to suck down, some more Ricola's for desert, then a nightcap of Theraflu: I might squeeze out a couple of patient evaluations before my larynx decides to crap out totally for the weekend.
At least my urge to ride is returning, and I don' t need vocal chords to hit the woods on my singlespeed..
Here's to enjoying the silence, while it lasts..
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