Chapter 10 guardian angel

Pinned to Sandrine's white robe is an identification card that says "speech therapist", but we should pronounce it: "guardian angel".It was she who invented the method of pointing out letters one by one to communicate. Without this method, I would have cut off the channel of dialogue with the world.Alas, most of my friends have practiced this method, but here in the hospital, only Sandrine and a psychologist have practiced it.So to other people in the hospital, I often can only use the most superficial gestures, blink, or nod, ask someone to close the door, fix the dripping toilet, turn down the sound of the TV, or Move up the position of my pillow.Not every time I can convey the meaning clearly.

As the weeks passed, my helpless situation taught me to endure the ordeal without complaint with an ascetic attitude, and I came to understand that medical personnel can be divided into two broad categories.Most of the medical staff never thought of crossing the threshold and trying to understand my distress signal; the other part, with a harder heart, always quietly ignored me, pretending not to see my desperate message.And those who are insensitive will suddenly turn off the TV when I watch the "French Bordeaux vs. Germany Munich Football Match" and the game is exciting at halftime, and then reward me with "good night", and they will leave. Can't keep it either.In addition to the practical inconvenience, this inability to communicate was also depressing for me.So when Sandrine knocks on my door twice a day, I feel refreshed, and as soon as her timid little squirrel face enters the door, all the floating emotions of melancholy are swept away.The invisible diving bell that had always bound me seemed less oppressive at this point.

Pronunciation correction courses are an art that deserves to be learned.You can't imagine that by performing mechanical movements with your tongue, you can pronounce all the sounds in French.At present, the sound L is my difficulty, poor editor-in-chief of ELLE, who no longer knows how to pronounce the title of the publication he himself edits.On auspicious days, that is, between coughs, I have more strength and breath to produce a phoneme or two.On my birthday, with Sandrine's help, I was finally able to pronounce the twenty-six letters more clearly.There is no better birthday gift than this one.I heard twenty-six letters hurled into the empty void by a gruff sound from ages past.This grueling exercise is like a caveman discovering language.Sometimes someone would call in and interrupt our practice.Sandrine would speak for me on the phone with my loved ones, and I would listen to their conversations, taking the opportunity to catch the fluttering bits of life like butterflies.My daughter Celiste told me stories of her adventures on a wooden horse.In five months we will be celebrating her ninth birthday.My dad told me that he had a hard time pushing his feet and he couldn't stand up.He has bravely lived ninety-three years of his life.The two of them are like the two links at the two ends of the chain of love, wrapping around and protecting me.I often ask myself, what kind of mood does this one-way conversation make the person on the other end of the phone feel?For me, they make me mood swings.How I wish these tender calls were not just silenced.I know some people are not comfortable with this kind of phone conversation, like Floran.If I hadn't first breathed loudly into the phone that was taped to my ear, gentle Flolan would not have spoken first. "Honey, are you there?" she'd ask uneasily on the other end of the line.

I should say that sometimes I don't quite know where I am.