My throat hurts. I am not happy about it.
When I was twelve years old a surgeon sliced open my throat, pinned extraneous things to one side, and then gouged out as much of the cancer as possible without nicking other organs. That day, the massive tumor was deemed not just malignant but also terminal… so it was more important to be vigilant than careful.
As a result, my recurrent and superior laryngeal nerves are permanently damaged. This is why I sound like a demented child and have no projection. This is why I lose my voice during book tours, or whenever I catch a cold. Or at least someone told me that once. I tend to think that it is some kind of dreadful curse.
Byron helpfully suggested that I might have caught the hospital superbug during my recent appointment. I have in the past caught various strains of strep, staph, and a vicious case of hepatitis whilst in hospital.
But since I didn’t touch anything and watched carefully to make sure the doctor put on new gloves before digging around in my mouth, it seems unlikely that I have anything worse than a common cold.