Time will tell

If I woke up on Tuesday morning with no voice, today I woke up with minus a voice!

I made the decision to go to the doctor's because my chest was beginning to hurt. A virus is one thing but a chest infection is something completely different. But have you ever tried making an appointment when you have no voice? No? Well it's bloody difficult!

The only way I could manage was to get myself dressed and over to the surgery, which is in the next village along, 4 miles away. When I got there the receptionist interpreted my teeny whisper  (I did have a pen and pad in my bag just in case) and told me to go home and she'd phone me, saying not to worry, she'd manage to communicate with me. So off I went.

About ten minutes after I got back I got the phone call to come back in. So off I went and luckily had taken my book to read as an hour and a half later the doctor called me in. I was very grateful though so no complaining. Anyway, after a thorough check, she announced that I had a virus and not an infection and, I quote, there's a nasty bug going around that takes 6 to 8 weeks to finally disappear. Great I thought, well at least I don't have to take antibiotics, but time will literally tell as to whether I have that dreaded lurgy or some other one.

So it was back home and into bed for the day. No talking at all, not even to myself. Just taking it easy, doing some writing and some reading and some sleeping.

Actually I don't feel too bad. I haven't tried my voice and don't intend to until the morning. My lovely friend, Shirley has, after an email exchange, cancelled our lunch tomorrow and, as we're due to meet up in London next week, I feel we'll have time to catch up, so another morning's rest should see me (hopefully) feeling ok. But if I make a miraculous cure by the morning we'll change back to Plan A and go for lunch tomorrow as well.

I still have my dinner date to go, which is with my song writing pal from across the sea and as he's happy to do all the talking, I reckon it should be fine. And as it's my final, final birthday celebration for this year - yes, ok, I know I should've grown out of all that by the age of 64, but I haven't and so tomorrow is the month of my birthday fun being up - we're going to Twenty Prince's Street, which is where my boys took me in January. It was so nice that the two of us decided it would be a good place to go for a birthday bash, even if it'll be a rather one sided affair, given my vocal capabilities.

I'm all Vicked up for the night now and with a Lemsip on the way I'm heading for an early night.