My Crooked Smile
This is a copy of a Dreamwidth entry: https://alycewilson.dreamwidth.org/14035.html
This is my LJ Idol entry on the topic
Someone who will love you in all your damaged glory
My Crooked Smile
(For my husband)
The day my face collapsed,
the left side stoney still,
you called the paramedics for me,
relaying their questions as you held
the phone against your ear, held
your own face still, your voice
soothing. As they examined me,
you talked amiably with them, made
the moment feel normal. So
when the ambulance pulled away,
me on a gurney inside, your calm
followed me. Held onto me
through the tests, the questions,
the IV and blood pressure cuff,
blood draws, CT, MRI,
chest scan and finally,
the diagnosis. Bell's Palsy.
A temporary partial facial paralysis,
brought on by unknown causes.
In my case, probably Lyme Disease.
You sat with me for hours,
cheerfully chatting. You were
my center. My calm. Kept me
chill, finding humor.
(Did you know it's nigh
impossible to say "Bell's Palsy" when
you have Bell's Palsy?)
In the weeks since, you've helped me
pick up medicines, offered
ways to make life easier. To drink
from a straw, for example,
so I don't dribble so much.
I must have been hard
to look at, for someone used to
my normal lopsided smile. But you
never loomed away, never gave me
a look of pity. I can't say
I'm surprised, after nearly 25 years
with you, but I now realize
one way you drew me to you.
I always knew you saw me,
the way I was, and loved
exactly what you saw, no
matter how lopsided.
~~~
I tried to embed images but failed. If you're curious, here's me in the hospital:
Here's me in the hospital.
Here's me today.
This is my LJ Idol entry on the topic
Someone who will love you in all your damaged glory
My Crooked Smile
(For my husband)
The day my face collapsed,
the left side stoney still,
you called the paramedics for me,
relaying their questions as you held
the phone against your ear, held
your own face still, your voice
soothing. As they examined me,
you talked amiably with them, made
the moment feel normal. So
when the ambulance pulled away,
me on a gurney inside, your calm
followed me. Held onto me
through the tests, the questions,
the IV and blood pressure cuff,
blood draws, CT, MRI,
chest scan and finally,
the diagnosis. Bell's Palsy.
A temporary partial facial paralysis,
brought on by unknown causes.
In my case, probably Lyme Disease.
You sat with me for hours,
cheerfully chatting. You were
my center. My calm. Kept me
chill, finding humor.
(Did you know it's nigh
impossible to say "Bell's Palsy" when
you have Bell's Palsy?)
In the weeks since, you've helped me
pick up medicines, offered
ways to make life easier. To drink
from a straw, for example,
so I don't dribble so much.
I must have been hard
to look at, for someone used to
my normal lopsided smile. But you
never loomed away, never gave me
a look of pity. I can't say
I'm surprised, after nearly 25 years
with you, but I now realize
one way you drew me to you.
I always knew you saw me,
the way I was, and loved
exactly what you saw, no
matter how lopsided.
~~~
I tried to embed images but failed. If you're curious, here's me in the hospital:
Here's me in the hospital.
Here's me today.