I opened my mouth this morning and nothing came out. After a few attempts, there were a couple of squawks, definitely nothing intelligible to non-amphibians.

A cold had taken a turn for the worse and laryngitis had robbed me of my voice. I was mute for the day.

Boy, what a day. You never know how important something is until it’s gone. Trying to perform even the most mundane activities turned into a Herculean task. I couldn’t get anyone’s attention; I couldn’t answer the phone; I couldn’t satisfy the smallest social interactions that usually occur effortlessly with the humans around me.

Thankfully, it was a day off work so I had only my own kids to contend with. Without my braying teacher’s voice, I was at their mercy. Getting their attention proved to be interesting with naught but a whisper to command. Clapping hands worked as did whistling (when they didn’t laugh at me) but getting them to listen to me mid squabble was nearly impossible. A nice side effect is that they all ended up whispering back to me so the morning was deliciously quiet.

Answering the phone proved problematic. I’d pick up the phone with a wheeze and a croak and then wait for the pause while the caller wondered who the heck they had on the other line. I’d quickly shift to whisper mode, demanding the entire focus of my friend on the other line. I wistfully imagined a special phone, one that would talk for you if you typed in a sentence. Eventually, I gave up, letting the calls go to the machine.

In the late afternoon I discovered an app. on my iphone called “talk assist” where I could type in words and the phone would recite them in a monotone male voice. Of course, I was too shy to use this on anyone other than my family.

There was also the social awkwardness of my muteness. Dropping my kids off at school and stopping for groceries entailed many awkward silences in response to a neighbour’s “How are you today?” Trying to get some bread at the grocery required me to lean in, almost whispering in the baker’s ear.

I tried gesturing as much as possible and wished that I and the world were more fluent in sign language.

The whole day was an exercise in frustration but an illuminating one. I imagine my voice will come back to me by the end of the week but there are many people in the world that have communication challenges every day. Trying to adapt to the world’s expectations and technology’s drawbacks is a daunting task. My day of being mute allowed me insights I might never have experienced.

On a lighter note, I think my husband appreciated the break.

Andrea Phillpotts is a Richmond writer and teacher. Opinions expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect those of any school district or school.