Six Weeks In

Six weeks ago today, I woke up with Bell's palsy. The left side of my face was temporarily yet completely paralyzed, and simple tasks like taking a sip of water, brushing my teeth, and even smiling, for heaven's sake, were nearly impossible. My speech was slurred; my misshapen mouth could not properly form Fs or Ps. My left eyebrow was frozen into place, the left side of my forehead didn't move, Botox style, and my left eye could not blink.

"Don't worry," said my doctor. "We caught it early and I expect you will be back to normal in ten days to two weeks."

Well. Welcome to Bell's Palsy Week Six.

Now I won't complain. I am starting to see signs of healing. Week Five was a game changer. My slurred speech has mostly cleared up, my left eyebrow is almost fully functional, and whether my left eyelid is now closing or my brain has learned to sleep with one eye open, I'm not entirely sure but I am getting a proper night's rest again. My mouth is still fairly deformed so I can't chew properly or drink without a straw, and I drool more than I care to admit.

But I am definitely getting better.

Now that I see a light at the end of the Ball's palsy tunnel and no longer fear living with this freak face forever, and I realize that I've learned some interesting things along the way.

* * * * *

During the first two weeks, I worked through the horror of looking into the mirror and seeing my own eyes in an alien, contorted face. Strangers stared. Friends stumbled to say that I look just fine, but that was not so. I knew I didn't look like myself and I found that I'm much more comfortable when we all just admit the truth.

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When I was first diagnosed, I understood Bell's palsy to be simply a collection of physical inconveniences, and I figured that by ignoring them, I could quickly put the disease into the background of my life and carry on as normal. But I've learned that Bell's palsy affects more than just my face - it has thrown me off balance in a handful of subtle ways:

I drop things.
I can't find the words I'm looking for.
I get off at the wrong exit.
I put cheese in the freezer.
I forget what I'm doing.

And in facing this seemingly trivial but life-changing secondary symptoms, I've found more compassion for people who are sick in mind, body and spirit; who cannot simply will themselves to carry on as if life were normal.

* * * * *

This isn't the first time I've learned this lesson, but Bell's Palsy has taught me once again how important it is to receive from others. I readily admit that I much prefer to give to others, and typically, I feel awkward and out of balance when I am on the receiving end of compassion and care. But what a humbling and important experience it is to receive - to know that when I reach the limits of my own fortitude and strength, there are people in the world who will reach out and pull me along, contorted face and all. Family, friends, even perfect strangers have all helped me make it through these six weeks of Bell's palsy, and for their help and generosity, I am grateful

* * * * *

Here are all the stories about my Bell's Palsy, in order from start to, hopefully, finish:

Bell's Palsy

Self-Care

Six Weeks In

Done With Bell's Palsy