When I was in hospital, my vocal chords were completely severed and I couldn't speak or make noises. I had just learned to point, though, so my mum decided to print me out a keyboard so I could communicate. It worked well. Then, later that day, my neurologist came around, a really lovely, softly spoken man. He had a group of students with him, too. He came over to me and asked me if I wanted to say anything to him. Turns out what my eight year old mind wanted to say to him began with an F! I'm sure you can guess what it was...