Girl that speaks no words

I open my mouth, move my tongue, but I omit no sound, not so much as a groan. Even the flapping of the tongue is inaudible.

 

Sudden mute syndrome is the American term for what I’ve got. In the UK there isn’t an official medical term for it, so I’m filed under don’t know. The American doctors don’t know either, of course, but they do their PR better, give it a name and it sounds like they’re in charge.

 

Sudden mute syndrome is the sudden inability to speak. I lost my voice out of the blue, for no reason. It will probably only be temporary, a few weeks the doctor says. Or longer. Maybe it won’t be temporary at all.

 

There are many things it could be, too many. I’m on 17 different waiting lists - pyschotherapist in case it’s an anxiety disorder, laryngeal specialist, various brain specialists and even a lung specialist. That’s the great thing about the NHS, you get to see every specialist you need to. Of course, this is the NHS today, so there’s a waiting list for all of them, and if you’ve got anything remotely serious you’ll probably die before you see any of them.

 

Being mute has actually helped with Billy. My disciplinary technique had recently been reduced to shouting at him ineffectually, not great I know, but any single parent of an eight-year-old will tell you it’s understandable. Now I have to earn his attention, smile at him,  go all motherly on him, send him a text.

 

I learnt to adapt quickly, as I do, learning the rudiments of sign language in just a couple of late night sessions. It didn’t help though, I don’t know anyone who can sign back. Another useless skill notched up, like knitting and oral sex.

 

The sign language didn’t help at work, unfortunately. I’m an agency nurse, and I was told I was a health and safety risk. I didn’t know what to say. That’s the trouble of agency work, you haven’t got a leg to stand on - no need for reasonable adjustments, they just say they’ve  got no vacancies that week, even though the local hospital is closing wards and cancelling operations because of lack of nursing staff.

 

I claimed ESA, the sickness benefits, but that was a waste of time. My medical assessment was carried out by someone vastly less qualified than me, asking me irrelevant questions about lifting empty boxes (a key skill in any job). I was sanctioned, they said I made no effort to answer their questions. “I can’t speak”, I wrote. “That’s easy for you to say,” they said.

 

All my life I’ve worked, not missed a day, except for childbirth. I have a degree in nursing, I save lives for a living, I have a child to feed, why am I being punished?’ I say. Only I don’t. I’ve already been sent on my way. I am a nobody. One of the voiceless. The likes of me never get heard.