Coming to Terms with It
After a full day of feeling sorry for herself alone and stewing in her thoughts, the woman with half a smile picked up the phone and made a mental list of who she should call and in what order. She decided to call her sister-in-law first, but no one was home. She left a message, trying to code it a bit, so that if the kids were there listening when the answering machine sputtered out her voice, they wouldn't worry about Aunt Tiny being sick. She remembered only then her brother was away on business. Just as well, she thought, as her sister-in-law was better at comforting her now, and she'll know how to react, she's a PA.
Trying her best not to over-exert her healthy half of a smile, Aunt Tiny laid her head back down on the couch and thought about her brother's family and the happy times they shared. Her nephew would be seven years old soon. She made another mental note to find out exactly when her nephew's birthday was, as her mind seemed to be flooded with other junk at the moment. To think back when he was a baby, how she savored the smell, the tender touch, the weight of him in her arms as she sung a lullaby to him in the nursery rocking chair. Amazing how in seven years, the bundle of love has grown to develop dreams and wishes and fears of his own, fluidly and without strain. From the outside, his fears may seem temporary and ever changing as the sculpting of a fairly new river bed, downpouring from a fresh source. These childhood fears, if strained and not seen with love, can become fixations and have a lasting permanency, she thought. He'll be alright, she brightened, he will not be like me.
She then tried to reach her good friend who lived an hour away. Stuck at home with a 6 month old baby, her friend was there for her and did all the talking and soothing. There was nothing else anybody could do. She only had to do what the good doctors said, and everything will resolve on its own. There were homeopaths and other kinds of therapists, her friend let her know if she wanted to go and believe in them, they could help her. Trust and belief, in the end that's what it is all about, she thought, half unblinking and staring out the window as she rehashed what had happened -- all of it -- all of the past 9 months to her friend. How she lost her trust in her work and boss, and could only have so many commitments. She chose herself, her health, and her only love, over those "mad people". Her friend agreed, having met the boss once or twice, that she had her priorities straight.
Relieved and still twiddling with the plastic bubble -- the foggy and sticky eye patch -- encompassing what seemed like the entire left half of her small face, she went over to hug her boyfriend. He was cleaning and tidying up something what she couldn't see very well. "What was that for?" he asked. "For just being here," she beamed. I am so blessed, she thought, with a warm pink glow overtaking her. "It's time for us to go to the clinic get your eye checked again, I want to make sure you know how to go on your own" he replied calmly, his large gray, cerulean eyes smiling. There never was such a more beautiful and nameless color, she thought.
After returning home from the hospital for the second time, she finally reached her sister-in-law. Her sister-in-law confirmed everything she heard, and also told her how not uncommon it was, that her mother had it too recently. Her story told yet again, the woman with half a smile felt tired from another long day it seemed.
The most curious thing was something her sister-in-law said, after she had told her that the doctor gave her a 100% sick leave note for one whole week. "Yes, that's not a bad idea. You may be feeling a bit self-conscious, and have to come to terms with it..." Self-conscious she was, she felt that on the bus back from the hospital, everyone was staring at her, wondering what contagion was under that horrible putrid-looking eye patch. But come to terms? What?
After almost a half day of not having self-pitying feelings, the woman did not understand why she had to come to terms with it, but was curious anyway. They told her it shouldn't be permanent, and perhaps some discomfort will come with doing normal daily things like eating, looking at the computer or TV. She was unbelievably grateful for not having to go to work and deal with the workload and clients, but what would she do with herself? She planned getting her hair colored and cut with her wonderfully gay hairdresser, a nice total body massage, going to the gym, sleeping lots, playing with her two cats. Surely that was enough to keep her mind off of it and not have to deal with the consequences of having half your face paralyzed?
Next: Coping -- On and Off Sick Leave
