• you finally decide excessive mucus is rarely fatal.
• your family stops picking up the phone to dial 911 every time you cough.
• you stop reading the obituaries and thinking about how you would like yours to read.
• you know a Servox is not a body part.
• you know what the initials ENT,SLP,TEP,ACS,IAL and AL stand for.
• your nightmares now involve dead batteries.
• when the phone rings you no longer panic, but pick it up and say "ello".
• an unexpected sneeze happens and you find your hand has already blocked it before your brain told you the sneeze was coming.
• you no longer stop to smell the roses, but stop to admire them anyway.
• the person on the treadmill next to you sees you running with your mouth closed and can't figure out how you are doing it, and you just nod and smile.
• you know the difference between "laryngectomy" and : "laryngectomee", and can spell them correctly most of the time.
• you have to explain sme new laryngectomee product to your ENT.
• you use the TEP and keep forgetting to bring you Servox backup with you.
• You like to answer telemarketer oibe calls just so you can "mess" with them with your Servox.
• you no longer dream in your old voice.
• you discover you can't spit.
• uyou finally stop talking with your mouth full just as your mother always told you.
• the cat runs away when you try to sing along with the radio.
• when you talk in your sleep you run down your battery.

Thanks to Forrest Burnette, Vicki Eorio, Bob Herbst, Marie Sherwood and Steve Verngren who contributed ideas.