The*Squeaky*Cricket

Although I feel like I have made slow progress getting back to good health during the last nine months, every once in a while I get a good affirmation that the work is paying off. One of the specialists who I see for my particular problems is a speech therapist who works at a rehabilitation center operated by my medical network. It took seven months of calling, bothering, nagging, and persistence to find a speech therapist, so I knew going in to her office that I would do whatever she asked me to do to overcome my speech problems.

Let me tell you, this is one scary place. My first appointment, I was seated in a dingy reception area where one gentleman sounded like he was trying to hack up something he inhaled twenty years ago. Another woman had a service dog, little more than a lapdog, who kept sniffing…

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