Shocking
I don’t normally stick needles in my face. Neither do I shock it with electricity with any kind of frequency. Somehow, however, I was able to fit both into my schedule this week.
On Wednesday, I took an early morning trip to Mercy Hospital for a little more physical therapy. The session went pretty much like I expected. I performed my assigned exercises for the therapist and was critiqued on my progress. The good news: I’ve improved. I may not be able to smile but at least I can raise the corner of my mouth a small amount. The bad news: I ended up with more homework. I have a whole new set of exercises to keep me occupied in front of the mirror.
And what exciting exercises they are. In addition to some practice with puckering and smiling, my old exercises consisted of tasks like filling my cheeks with air and saying words that begin with the letter b, like bow. My new activities are even more comical. One new speech exercise has me pin my tongue to the left side of my mouth and recite words such as grandmother. Another makes me raise my upper lip and say words such as friendly or far. Glancing at the list of terms, I quipped that I was glad that the word frankfurter was skipped. That little “problem” was quickly rectified.
After physical therapy, I moved up my appointment with the neurologist. I was in the building. I might as well kill two birds with one stone. It was in the examining room of the neurologist where words like “grounding” made their first appearance. “I’m going to have to give him a needle”, the doctor told my wife. I had no clue whatsoever that it would be in my face.
To be truthful, it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. The needles themselves were much like acupuncture (which, technically, I’ve only seen on TV) in that they literally rested in my face for a short time. An attached wire made it look as if the doctor were testing a human-sized (and Ken-shaped) battery. The part of my tests where I was shocked by policeman-like electrical do-hickey (I believe that is the technical term) was closer to that tingling feeling you get from laying your tongue on a 9-volt battery than sticking you finger into an electrical outlet (again, something I’ve only seen on TV). Any fear or loathing I had about the session is quite related to having someone jam needles into my face and that’s something I never want to get entirely comfortable with.
The real good news of the week was my prognosis. The doctor said that by Labor Day no one should really notice my facial paralysis. By October 1st, I should be all better. Both dates are now marked in bold on my calendar.
