Laryngitis. Ah, what can you say about Laryngitis? Nothing.... because when you have it you can't say much of anything at all. My throat has been playing mean tricks on me for the past two days. One minute, I can talk and be somewhat painless only to find myself minutes later unable to get out more than a raspy syllable or two as my throat feels like I'm swallowing glass. Laryngitis (self-diagnosed, because why would anyone ever bother getting sick on a Monday when they could get sick on a weekend while the doctor's office is closed?) is a tricky illness to deal with, particularly when I am a therapist and my entire job revolves around being able to talk (sometimes talking above hyper-manic clients that ramble (without breath) at very LOUD volumes).
   Laryngitis also makes it quite difficult to scream. For some of you, this may seem slighly insignificant. But for those of us that enjoy the occasional shout, shriek, or high-pitched laughter, Laryngitis totally interrupts a basic form of self-expression. My husband, for example, is not a screamer. If he is startled, happy, sad, or totally freaked out, he takes it with stride. I, however, am a screamer. (I also startle easily, so I shriek.... ever so mildly.... when I see unexpected bugs near me, walk into a cob web, or when my husband taps on the window next to me from outside.... although honestly, that's super creepy and he deserves every scream he gets.) My man abhors these squeals. He literally yells at me if he feels that my reaction was even somewhat unnecessary. This from the man that doesn't seem to attract bugs at all, so he really has NO idea what it's like to be attacked by a swarm of winged insects.
   So, this morning, I went to the kitchen sink to rinse out my cup. And crawling up the side of the silver basin was nothing less than a cockroach. A COCKROACH. (I know cleaning day is tomorrow and all, but it's not THAT dirty in my house!) I could feel the scream working it's way up my torso and hit my vocal chords, only to release a sharp pain into my throat that practically made my teeth hurt. My heart stopped for about 5 seconds before it started beating rapidly, realizing that there was indeed a nasty bug inches from me. After alerting my husband (via raspy whisper), we decided to drown the insect and then secure the food trap so he couldn't climb his way back up into the sink. I'm sure the little devil will find some way to seek his revenge (these buggers never die), but hopefully the next time he shows his nastly little head, I'll be able to scream properly, sending the roach (and my husband) through the roof.