Speechless, Sightless... Helpless?

I've not got a lot to say.

I also have limited capacity for actual speech given that my voice is dying. It's been ongoing for an incredibly long time and I haven't quite known what to do about - torn between waiting for it to mend and expecting it to sort itself out as time went by (particularly having quit smoking) so best keep exercising the muscle... the latter being by far the more tempting! Last week a very nice doctor put a camera up my nose and down my throat and as I lived out an episode of House (excepting the fact that he was a very nice doctor) he showed me the nodules that are forming on my vocal chords.

Which is a bit of a bummer. Not least 'cause I sing and love it (and want to be in a band just soon as I can) but also 'cause it does actually get in the way of socialising. Rather a lot. In fact, as I look back I realise how much I have been ploughing on regardless and ending up worn out and in pain... it's not the smokey atmosphere (which no longer exists in the UK) and alcohol (which I don't drink that much of actually :-O) that mean I wake up dry and hoarse but rather my compulsive "need" to talk. So that is going to have to change. We hope.

I have been referred for speech therapy which could take an indefinite amount of time to start and so I look ahead with trepidation: in part excited to be one day free to sing without feeling terribly bad very quickly and that maybe I can get back to a place where going out for a drink with friends is not daunting to the point of avoidable (maybe that is why I feel so old and boring?!); but also in part wary at the hard work it's going to involve to recover and aware of how much I must change. Which isn't in and of itself a bad thing as I have been working towards that a while (whilst not really knowing what it will look like when I get there)... but still, medical condition to force it to happen seems a bit extreme. Though not necessarily bad and I am incredibly grateful for my diagnosis, the care, the hope and the timing of everything as it sure beats not knowing and getting no help.

And what in the mean time? Well, last night I went to the pub for the last forseeable time. I can't hack talking over people like that (no, not my friends, just the background noise). Which again, given my degree needs, is probably no bad thing.

On the topic of which... I haven't got a hope in hell of completion or coming even close. My presentation was delayed a week 'cause I was "struggling" and the essay due in 2 weeks and 2 days looks ominous. Then there are the exams and other deadline in April and yet more in June. All the old attentive and mood dilemmas are arising and I feel *quite* pathetic. I literally cannot see all the way to the end and me still being alive. I have no vision at all.

Luckily though, my hope isn't in hell actually and, though I am still incredibly uncertain of what is going on in my spiritual life (a tale for another time) I know once again that if it hasn't all been a figment of my attention-seeking, eratic, desperate imagination then I am going to be OK. 'Cause there are about a million and one promises buried in that bible (none of which I have the energy to locate right now) that tell me so...

Hmmmmm. This place also seems a bit extreme, even if it is to facilitate me moving deeper with God. Though again, not neccesarily bad. Now I await various diagnoses that can potentially get me help here too... I just wish they could put a camera up my nose and into my brain to tell them what's going on.

God is faithful even when we are faithless. Apparently.