Kandace's Korner: Losing my voice, and maybe my mind

What a crazy couple of weeks. It’s one thing to try to get through the days when you don’t have a voice. That’s what I’ve been fighting for the past couple of weeks, and it’s finally coming back — much to Rodney’s disappointment.

But it’s another when you’re trying to cover for co-workers, get your work done, conduct interviews (again without a voice) and attend basketball games every night. And when you don’t have a voice, the basketball games aren’t as fun as they could be.

That’s been my schedule for the last 14 days, though thankfully there have only been two games this week.

And it’s been great to mingle with Waltonville fans and meet some of the parents in my first year with that school. But there’s also been times this week when I’m sure people have wondered (and I have too) if I’m losing my mind.

Take Tuesday for example.

It was not only the first regular season junior varsity game for Brandon and Aaron, but one against a major rival: Woodlawn.

I’ve been excited about this game for a good while, even coming to terms eventually that I would not be able to scream, yell or join in the fun because of my voice.

So at 5 p.m. Tuesday, I’m ready. I change into my fan clothes at work and start to head west of town. I was going to get there early, find some good seats for me and Rodney and try to beat the crowd. He, by the way, wasn’t too worried about getting to Woodlawn late — he was at the mall shopping (hopefully for me) as I hit the interstate.

And it’s raining and I’m focusing on driving and just when I get to the Woodlawn exit my phone is ringing. I didn’t recognize the number and figured it was work-related. Nope.

Someone forgot something for the game.

Nice. But as I’m willing to protect the identity of the one who now owes me gas money, I’ll just stop at that.

So I call Rodney as I’m driving by Woodlawn High School — wistfully taking note of the large number of people staking claims in the parking lot — and head back to Waltonville in the pouring-down rain (without speeding, I swear), grab what I need, head back to Woodlawn, call Rodney that I’m on my way, call the phone number who called me to say I’m on my way, pray there’s no deer about (and I wasn’t speeding, I swear), and park outside the gym with about 10 minutes to spare before tip-off.

Crisis over, we enjoy the game (and it was a great game).

Wednesday morning, I thought to leave the house early to stop and buy a postage stamp on my way to work. As I stepped down the steps, I misgauged my footing and twisted my ankle. I heard it pop.

Nice. Now my ankle is the size of a softball.

I continued more interviews throughout the day, still with a hoarse voice, limping wherever I walked, and left work that evening with the intentions of catching the freshman/sophomore game at Sesser.

I get to the Sesser gym, thinking I’ve never seen the inside of it, pay the admission fee, walk inside and see a bunch of girls warming up for a game. It’s 6:05 p.m. So I walk back to the admission desk ask about a boys game and was told it was at the old gym — which I’ve never seen either. Someone forgot to tell me which gym the game was at. I’ll protect his identity too.

So I then got directions to that gym and arrive with about five minutes to spare before tip-off.

And to top it all off I think I accidentally used hair spray for deodorant this week. Or I might have dreamed it with all the crazy things going on.

My ankle’s slowly getting better and there’s only three games next week, two of them at home.

I think I can find those pretty easily enough.

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