It was 9:00 p.m. when I left the comfort of my bed and wandered into the kitchen to make a cup of herbal tea. When I turned on the light the peripheral view of a gray blur bouncing up and down set off an involuntary shriek that shot up from my toes.
My doctor said I was like a major league pitcher being put on the disabled list. I'm not an athlete. I am a broadcaster, but the analogy was not lost on me. My voice is my tool and it was rendered temporarily useless.