I Lost My Voice

Literally. I lost my voice. Last weekend I developed a cough. As the week progressed the cough has not gotten any better (though it hasn’t gotten worse) and by Friday I was losing my voice.

I have written only twice in this New Year. Over the past three weeks we have gotten a lot of snow here in northern Massachusetts. In fact, we have lost two work days a week over the past three weeks due to high volumes of snow and the need for snow removal. That’s more than a week’s worth of business days! During my days off I thought about writing. I even looked at my notes of inspiration thinking I would write about one of those topics that touched my heart at some point. But when I look at them I find no words.

I have agonized over losing my voice here. My friend Jodi has been writing every day. I love her creative writing and look forward to every new chapter. I read her daily entries over my morning coffee. I know my friend Seth  will encourage me with the words of Ecclesiastes; that everything has its season.

I’ve been reading Kara’s blog. Kara is in the truly final stages of her breast cancer. Once the decision to stop treatment is made it is only a matter of months or weeks. And in some cases days. My friend Linda chose to stop treatment while I was away on vacation. Much of what Kara and her guest bloggers write about speaks directly to how I am feeling about the imminent loss of my friend Linda. I wish I were so eloquent.

I am also reading my friend AnneMarie’s blog. AnneMarie has been writing about the truth behind the headlines. She is an advocate and a strong voice in the world of patient care. Her words paint a picture of the harsh reality that is breast cancer. Part of me wishes I could get angry and hate the pink ribbon, but I don’t. It has its place. What she and others write is also true and needs to be heard. It is the message that we truly need to share. Cancer kills. Breast cancer kills. Cancer is not pretty. Or sexy.

I think about how I have lost my literary voice and I realize that it is due to a breaking heart. With a cough and laryngitis I cannot even go visit for fear of infecting Linda. I think “maybe next week.” Linda has no sense of the passage of time these days, but I do. My visits are no longer for her. They are for me.

I can do nothing for Linda or her daughters. Tina and Kristen are now faced with the hard decisions about Linda’s final days of care. I want their days to be filled with the grace that Kara knows. I want to write about the truth of cancer. Others are doing just that.

I have lost my voice, so I will let others speak for me.

Blog references:

A Little Farm in the City

CHEMOBRAIN . . . In The Fog

Mundane Faithfulness

This and $2.50

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.