Too Sad to Frown
I’ve been pretty down this week. Actually, I’ve been a lot down. The Bell’s Palsy that’s affecting the left side of my face is bothering me, both physically and emotionally.
Physically, everything seems harder. Everything is a relative term, of course. Walking certainly isn’t more difficult. Neither is manipulating a fork and a knife. The easy things you take for granted. You don’t miss them unless they are broken. A lot seems broken right about now.
Unmoving lips result in slurred speech. I’ve found myself actually holding my mouth with my hand to help correct this. Eating is a challenge. My lips just won’t get the hell out the way of my teeth, much less serve as a good gatekeeper. Once it’s in, you want it to stay in, a problem that rears its head when drinking too fast.
An partially blinking eye means those long nights in front of the computer screen may become more a thing of the past. Eye drops are an hourly reminder of my problem. The last thing I need is something else to go wrong.
Emotionally, it’s a burden. There are lots of unknowns. How long will this last? Will I ever recover? Questions roam around in my brain like flies in a jar, never escaping, sometimes pausing from the exhaustion of a battered skull.
I’ve become concerned about my appearance but not in the way you expect. I don’t know if I’ve ever really cared how people see me. I’ve always been personally confident. I generally care little about you think. That said, an unresponsive face has made that confidence tumble. I think less of myself. That bothers me much more than any glare from another could.
Embarrassment has become an unwelcome neighbor, frustration a looming giant. It’s all the little things that bug me. Addition in small increments is still addition after all.
My treatment has been laced with sorrow. My prognosis is hope. Still what I really want to do is frown for a while — and do it with gusto.
