In the midst of everything else last week, I missed an important anniversary in my life. Four years ago, on October 13 (Friday, October 13…not typically superstitious, but this one about changed that!), I got Bell’s Palsy. This is a paralysis of the facial muscles on one side of the face/neck. It comes on pretty suddenly – in my case, I first noticed it when I was talking on the phone and my mouth felt funny. As the day went on, I could move less and less, until I could no longer move anything on that side of my face. I couldn’t talk easily, couldn’t blink, couldn’t smile. It was devastating. I knew what it was, knew it was not truly harmful, and knew that it was supposed to only be temporary, and I was still devastated.
It’s hard to explain how it feels to have BP. On the surface, it seems to not be anything major – it’s not fatal and not permanent, what’s the big deal? Oh, but it’s a big deal. I smile as easily as I cry (and I do that very easily, remember?), and suddenly I was faced with the complete inability to smile. At all. The emotions were still there, but the result of the attempt was just scary-looking. So I (mostly) quit trying.
You know what happens when you stop smiling? You stop feeling happy. Okay, I’m sure other things play into that – things like feeling completely conspicuous and self-conscious, and flat out feeling ugly – but the act of smiling does make a difference in your attitude. And walking around everywhere with a frown – because that’s the only facial expression that looks even sort of symmetrical during BP – tends to make you feel sad. Your insides match your face.
For four solid weeks, there was absolutely no movement on the right side of my face, and not a sign of improvement. My greatest blessing during this time is that I was on maternity leave (C was a week old when the BP started), so I didn’t have to get out very much, and didn’t have to stand in front of a class of middle school students every day and try to teach. I mostly hid out at home and enjoyed my new baby. (And cried!)
When the first twitches of movement started to come back, I was pathetically thrilled. Up to that point, I hadn’t quite been able to believe that it wasn’t permanent. It was slow…painfully slow…but over the next few months my smile (and my blink, and the ability to talk without slurring) began to come back. A few months later, I was mostly to the point that most people no longer noticed my lop-sided-ness first thing (although it was still very obvious to me). After 18 months or so, I stopped needing a straw to drink. Now, four years later, even I can hardly tell I had it…other than the fact that I have a few less wrinkles on my forehead on that side! Good thing I didn’t know back then how long it would take to get to this point!
I will confess that I can still work myself into a complete meltdown if I dwell too long on the thought of having to face it again. Mostly I try to avoid those thoughts…there’s no known cause, so no way to protect myself…I might as well just appreciate (and I do) the ability to smile now that I have it back.
(But if on some horrible morning I wake up with it again, it would be really nice if it hits the other side of my face…you know, to even out those wrinkles!!)
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