There is something about not being able to speak that I find disempowering and disturbing, even though I know my voice will soon come back. I have to be patient and let this virus work itself out of my system.
There was another time I lost my voice that was a lot more disturbing. I had overdosed- it was very bad. I had to be intubated, and on a respirator, and spent a few days in intensive care. Afterwards I could only speak in a whisper. They told me that this was an effect of the intubation, and that as my vocal tract re-epithelialized, my voice would probably come back. But they also told me that there was a small chance that I had sustained a vocal cord injury and that it wouldn't. It was a very long wait, wondering if I had destroyed my voice.
The whole episode was very traumatic. You don't just come out of a coma like it happens on TV. It happens in stages. And for a while I was very confused. I saw that I was in restraints- but the other patients in room (there were 4 of us) were not. I thought that they had succeeded in breaking out of their restraints- I thought that this was what we were supposed to do. I saw all of these monitors- I thought they were TV's. I thought it was some kind of game show- to have people break out of their restraints. So I kept trying, and then pleading for them to let me out, telling them that I give up, I lost the game, I can't do it.
I had the worst bruises on my arms and legs from where the restraints were. They eventually faded and my voice came back for which I am very grateful. They had told my parents that I might either die or have brain damage, that they would do what they could. Sometimes, when I am having trouble concentrating or remembering something- I wonder about the brain damage.
I did it to myself- and yet it was a very traumatic experience. I know it was traumatic for my family, too. I think I am glad I didn't succeed. Most days.