A real day off

Posted: 20 J0000006UTC 2011 in Freedom
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I’ve got to take advantage of this, it’s like a blue moon. Every so often, I’m lucky enough to have an actual day off. My work allows one day off per week. I have this, what I don’t have is luxury. The luxury to sit around, do nothing, or do everything. Usually my day off includes at least one doctor appointment.

I moved over one thousand miles about seven months ago, not a huge move, considering I’ve moved over 30 times.

Hint 1: I have no affiliation with the military.

Hint 2: My parents didn’t have jobs that required moving a lot.

Hint 3: Most of my moves occurred after I was no longer a minor (seven years, over 15 moves) and more “control” over my life. You do the math.

The day before I moved to my current location, I was at a doctor’s appointment (surprise, surprise). The doctor told me I may have cancer. Here’s a snapshot of the conversation. I had that day been referred to this doctor via emergency referral from another doctor.

Dr worryman: “I think you may have cancer.”

Me: “Is it able to be treated where I’m moving to?”

Dr worryman: “Yes, but I really think you ought to delay the start of your job.” (imagine surprised look on his face when I saw this NOT as a death sentence).

My brain: “Yeah right, I finally have a full-time permanent job, and this dude wants me to risk it because I might have cancer?”

Me: “No, not going to happen, they’re expecting me tomorrow, they bought my plane ticket, I’ll deal with it down there.”

Dr worryman: “Ok, but make sure you have a biopsy done in less than one month.”

Turns out the doctor’s concern was not entirely necessary. I (at the moment) don’t have cancer. Various specialists saw me, blood work done at least one dozen times, results essentially negative for a new finding.

The problem that hasn’t been solved is why I still (over one year at this point) don’t have a fully functioning voice. I’m being gentile here. I’ve had a hoarse voice for most parts of the last year. I can’t project, can’t sing any high notes, and when I went to a speech therapist, she laughed as I screeched during an exercise she gave me to practice.

My vocal cords are paralyzed. Why? I have no clue, and neither do people who’ve gone to medical school and been in practice for three decades. Usually people who are of an older age or ones who’ve endured strokes have a similar condition to mine, but over half a dozen doctors in nearly half a dozen specialties have no clue as to why I can barely talk.

Speculations, speculations, no one knows. I’m not sure if anyone cares as long as I’m breathing. I was diagnosed with walking pneumonia when I first moved, then acute bronchitis the other month, yet I don’t have any official breathing difficulties. This makes for an interesting case to some doctors, others just let me live with what I have after their few recommendations haven’t worked.

Remember, even if a person can’t express his or herself verbally, a brain still resides in his/her skull. It will take patience on both ends, but in the end, we all have at least one “X” chromosome… We’re all human.

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