OK, so my voice is back, just. The only problem is, everything I say sounds like the spoken intro to a Barry White song. My voice is about an octave lower than usual. And it still hurts to talk, even if it’s now possible.
Add to that how toxic I still feel (body fighting off infection, bound to feel rough), and I’m still an unhappy Stevie. But I do think I’m no the mend. I’m pretty sure this isn’t now going to turn into some sort of huge crippling disease that renders me unable to finish my tax accounts before I go away to the States in January…
Oh shit, before that I need to call the National Insurance people and find out what the hell is happening with this huge bill I got at the beginning of December…
better go do that!