Bell's Palsy Update - Week 4 Begins

Yeah. It's still here. Like the proverbial house guest who has far overstayed any semblance of welcome...and frankly, there never was anything to welcome about Bell's. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Period.

It was just a matter of time before this happened. And by "this," I mean the Black Hole of Depression.

Yesterday, I took Day 21 pictures (I had documented Day 7 and posted them earlier, but I had neglected to document Day 14). And in reviewing them, I let that small back door to my soul pop open...all my good humor melted, all determination leaked out, and depression came rushing through the cracks. I was, in a word, crushed.

I appear to be the same, as you can see for yourself. It doesn't look like I've made any progress at all. The left side of my face is still paralyzed. My left eye is still drooping. My mouth is still frozen is a half-smile. It's the same sad countenance looking back from the bathroom mirror.

How can that be? I've done the meds, the exercises, the rest periods, the meditation, the eyepatching, the artificial tears, the research, the networking with other BP sufferers, the follow-ups...everything I know to do. And I look the same?

Gloom, despair, agony on me...
Deep, dark depression, excessive misery...

This, my friends, must have been my darkest hour. But, it probably says something about my quirky sense of humor, which apparently had not all melted away as I thought, that I'd think of a song from "Hee Haw" at this lowest of low points.

I took to my bed, covered my head, and tried to ride it out. And, I got up today to sunshine and the feeling of beginning again.

You see, today's my birthday. And I think this may have been a part of the funk I found myself. Yesterday, I was thinking this was the WORST birthday I've ever had...but by the light of morning, I realized it wasn't. I've already done that...and last year, no less.

I survived that, and I'll survive this. I have a wonderful support system, I have the medical care necessary, and I know (in my head, if not entirely in my heart) that it's a matter of time more than anything else I can "make" happen. Actually, as soon as I can accept that there is really nothing I can do to bend Bell's to my will, the better off I will be.

Time. It's all about time at this point. And it apparently always has been...

Bell's Palsy Update - Day 19

And so it continues...

I shared the following information with my brothers yesterday, so I'll take a shortcut and paste their update into this post.

I'm seeing daily improvements in my Bell's Palsy...possibly not as visible to Mr. T or Missy M, but it FEELS like improvement to me.

My lower jaw has all but quit cramping, and the pain is receding from moderately excruciating to merely annoying. My drooping eyelid feels less droopy, and I'm blinking easier...but I can't raise my eyebrow or wink yet.

I can open my mouth much better and chew easier, but my upper lip is still numb. I drank milk from a glass this morning WITHOUT A STRAW, although I'm not quite ready to do the same with my coffee just yet. Maybe tomorrow...or the next day.

Although bright light and loud sounds are still bothersome, I'm wearing my eyepatch much, much less without too many problems, especially since I'm following this new doctor's advice to use artificial tears every hour. Dr. E says "one month to three months," and he has put me on stronger meds since I saw him on Monday.

I'm making an effort to REST and recuperate, and the time is passing...slowly, but surely. I didn't make that 15-day deadline, but I have high hopes that I'll hit the one-month mark with a whole smile on my whole face!

Today I've noticed that my eye is tearing much more than yesterday. I'm trying to leave my patch off as directed to give "the eye muscles a chance to strengthen," but I may have to give them a longer rest this afternoon. We'll see...

I must admit that, while I continue to be optimistic about my recovery, I am experiencing some frustration...as well as a good deal of insight. This "lightbulb" came on about my speech difficulties.

My grandfather Keaton, known to us as Papaw, suffered a series of TIAs, or mini-strokes, in the year or so after his retirement. Then, in his mid-60's, he had a stroke that left him partially paralyzed and robbed him of his power of speech. Therapy helped return most of his abilities...except the speech part.

He would struggle to say the word that was in his head, but it would not come out as he wanted. Made him so angry...and those words ALWAYS seemed to come out perfectly. As a teenager at the time, I remember just wanting him to be like the Papaw I used to know and love.

Now...I'm getting a little tiny taste of what he went through, all those many years ago. Through my numb and frozen lips, I struggle forming words, especially those with the P, B, F, S, and double-consonent sounds. And the more I have to re-pronounce and enunciate, the more tired and strained and frustrated I become. Vicious cycle.

Ah well...

I watered the garden today for the first time in a couple of weeks. Mr. T has been trying to keep up with this chore, too, but the high temperatures of the past days have devastated the most vulnerable plants in the smallest containers, which dry out much quicker than the larger ones.

So, how dry is it after all that heat, you ask? This message from my friend Just Jane in Missouri, put a half-smile on my half-face:

IT'S SO DRY IN MISSOURI.. that the Baptists are starting to baptize by sprinkling, the Methodists are using wet-wipes, the Presbyterians are giving rain checks, and the Catholics are praying for the wine to turn back into water!

And Bro J added: ...and the Episcopalians are drinking whiskey under a shade tree!

Pah-dum-pump!

The weeds, however, are a different matter entirely. They have moved into the Secret Garden with a vengeance and are enjoying the benefits of all that fertilizer I applied for the veggies and flowers 6 weeks ago. Oh my, I want so badly to weed...and I HATE weeding! I thought that might happen today, as it is over-cast and the temperatures have dropped to the 80's, but my teary eye is telling me "not a good plan." Still, having the desire to be back in the garden must mean I'm getting better, right?

Progress. Celebrate the signs of progress, no matter how small.

Bell's Palsy Update - Week 3 Begins

Day 15 came. Day 15 went. I still have Bell's Palsy. The End.

No, not really. I had wanted to put a period on this chapter of my life in the minimum amount of time that the Doctor had said back on June 24 ("...15 days, one month, or the rest of your life..."), but that was not to be. The Nightmare on Franelm Road continues.

Big sigh.

Mr. T took me back to the Dr. for a follow-up yesterday, and because of scheduling, I saw a different physician. He asked us lots of questions and seemed both knowledgeable about the progression of BP and genuinely interested in me. He said he was not going to continue the antiviral acyclovir, since "if this was started by a virus," that med had done whatever it needed to do in the 15-day prescription I'd just completed.

He did increase my prednisone dramatically though, by changing me to a dose-pack, similar to what I've taken in the past for a bad reaction to poison ivy. So, starting today, instead of 10 mg of the anti-inflammatory, I'll be taking 60 mg...yowza! I'll do that for 3 days, then taper back off to 10 mg after 12 days. Hauling out the Big Guns!

After hearing about my jaw pain and localized headache (behind my left ear), he decided to add 300 mg/day of Neurotin (also known as Gabapentin), for nerve pain. I've taken that before, with no ill effects...10 years ago, between the time they diagnosed my herniated disc had collapsed onto my nerve, and my back surgery to alleviate that problem. Just makes me sleepy, but that will probably play right into Mr. T's "plan."

He, like I, has been seeking any and all information on Bell's Palsy that is "out there." Some of it is good, research-based stuff. Some of it is, well, stuff. A common theme flowing through almost all of the research and medical advice is REST. And Mr. T doesn't believe that I get enough rest to help manage my BP much less facilitate a "cure." Reading, playing Words With Friends, or posting to my blog do NOT constitute "resting" in his definition. He's probably right.

"Hello, my name is Patricia, and I am a non-napper."

It's true. I don't know how to nap. Never learned the proper technique of power napping ("20-30 minutes, no more, will relax your body and restore your energy level")...nor was I ever really encouraged to nap or rest.

True story here. As a colicky baby, the only way my folks could get me to nap was put me in a car and drive around for an hour or so. Of course, that didn't allow Momma to get a nap either if she had to drive the car, so this became Papaw's job. He would finish his mail route in Henning at 2:00 or so (where he was a Rural Letter Carrier, long before my Daddy got that job), drive the 50 or so miles to my parents' little apartment on South Parkway East in Memphis (uh, I wouldn't advise going there today...:-), pick up his screaming granddaughter (that would be moi), put me in the front seat of his big, town car (as opposed to what he called his "field car," the one he used on the Route), and ride me around until supper time. I'd calm down, take a little snooze, wake up happy and enjoy the rest of the ride. He got tired of driving just around Shelby County, so we'd sometimes go over the bridge to Arkansas, back across the River and down to Mississippi, out to the farm in Hardeman County to check on his hunting dogs or his horse, or all the way to Dyer, Tennessee to get his favorite BBQ. This explains so much, and not just about "Why I Can't Nap:"

1. Why I love to "go for a ride."
2. Why I love to go "places," and 50 miles or so is "just a stretch of the legs."
3. Why I can fall asleep in a car...and awake refreshed.
4. Why I was steering a car before the age of 5...ahem. But that's a story for another day...:~\

Take that information, and add to the facts that:

1. At home, I would always take a book to bed with me and READ instead of napping, as I got older.
2. Momma, who hated idleness as much as Chaucer*, equated both napping and reading to being idle...and lazy...and would invariably come in my room and say "well, if you are just going to lay there and read, you ought to get up AND DO SOMETHING." Trust me, there was ALWAYS a lengthy To Do List around our house.

...and it's not much of a stretch to understand why I don't nap.

[Don't you find it amusing that, as she aged, Momma became a great napper and a reader? I struggled to keep her in books from the library and the bookstore! And, she said one of the reasons she loved to watch baseball so much was that she could watch the first couple of innings, take a nap through the next 4-5 innings...and still have plenty of game to watch when she woke up.]

Anyway.

We are all noticing positive changes about my bout with Bell's. My lower jaw is "unlocking," allowing me the ability to chew and to speak more clearly...and with less effort. My top teeth and surrounding structures are a tiny bit less-numb each day it seems, allowing my "bite" to align properly...and thus facilitating the chewing and speech processes. I am having fewer attacks of what I can only describe as cramps in my jaw.

I still have a drooping left eyelid and a half-smile, and I still need to wear my eyepatch or tape because my eyelid doesn't close on its own...or stay closed...or respond to the blink reflex. So, outwardly, I guess I appear the same. And I'm still super-sensitive to light and sounds. Dr. E said yesterday "3 months" until I get those nerve functions back to normal...and then he hedged his bets with the "of course, there are some cases that return and a few that continue for a lifetime." You already know what I think of that...

So, I may still be sipping my morning coffee through a straw, but I'm having to hold it to my lips a lot less as they regain some feeling and some "pucker." I can open my mouth wide enough now to eat a banana...without having to slice and dice it into tiny chunks first. I'm leaving my eyepatch off longer and exercising the drooping eyebrow more easily.

Can my whole smile be too many days away?! Why don't I just go take a little nap, now...:~\


================*REFERENCES*==========
*Contrary to popular belief, there is no actual Biblical quote "idle hands are the devil's playground," as I was repeatedly told by Momma and by Ner, my step-great grandmother (who reared Momma from the ages 5-13, along with Momma's little brother Edward Keaton and her second-cousin-once-removed, Marcus Stewart...and who provided a home for a variety of kith and kin out on Velmetta Place, the Stewart farm in Whiteville...and who instilled in me the love of reading and playing Scrabble...and who NEVER spent an idle moment in her life to my knowledge...:~\). Again, explains so much...

Anyway...

It appears that Chaucer is given credit for the first usage, in his "Tale of Melibee":

"IDLE HANDS ARE THE DEVIL'S TOOLS - "Idleness is the root of mischief. This maxim has been traced back to Chaucer's 'Tale of Melibee' (c. 1386). First attested in the United States in 'Collections' (1808). The proverb is found in varying forms:
Satan has some mischief for idle hands to do; The devil finds work (or mischief) for idle hands to do." From "Random House Dictionary of Popular Proverbs and Sayings" by Gregory Y. Titelman (Random House, New York, 1996). "
http://www.phrases.org.uk/bulletin_board/21/messages/17.html

As Daddy always said "learn something new everyday!"

A Time to Say Goodbye

He was found wandering the streets of Hannibal, Missouri. He had no collar, no chip, and almost no lower front teeth...apparently from having chewed his way out of something strong like a chain link fence. The vet for the wonderful Guardian Angel Basset Rescue (GABR), who said he was probably between 5 and 7 years old, pronounced him healthy, if perhaps about 20 pounds underweight, and after a period with a foster mom in Western Illinois, ready for his forever home.

We were newly-arrived in our new-to-us home in O'Fallon...the first one we'd had with a fenced yard since we'd left Ohio. Duchess, just turned 2 the previous December, was still more-or-less a pup, with lots of energy to burn. Her principal playmate, Missy M had a job that kept her away from home during the week. Solution? Let's get her a playmate! The sun, moon, and stars aligned...and we were approved for adoption by GABR by the end of the week.

I remember the day we drove to the outskirts of Granite City, Illinois, for a meet-and-greet "visit" with a potential match. We were piled into the red Ford Explorer...Missy M, Duchess, and I...following the directions from the foster mom over the so-called New Chain of Rocks bridge and onto unfamiliar roads. When we arrived at the small, neat brick house, we were greeted...not by a Basset Hound as expected, but by a couple of Doberman Pinchers, along with several other eager canine faces. Then, a different kind of bark...and there he was. Red and white and ears and nose and beautiful. And I knew we weren't leaving without him.

Duchess, with her best I-am-Queen-of-the-Universe look, didn't have quite the same enthusiastic response. Not that there was any open animosity displayed...no, it was more along the lines of "Seriously? Why do you want another dog when you have me?"

We had all intentions of changing his name to Duke...for a certain symmetry, of course. The name he came with had been given to him during the adoption process. And "Gus" just sounded so, well, plain...and almost harsh when you shouted it out the back door: "Gus! Come get your supper!"

On the way home, I suddenly had a terrifying thought: "what if he doesn't like men?!" That's an issue with adopted dogs...you never know if they have suffered abuse, and when they have, it typically has come at the hands of males...and I had neglected to ask. So Missy M called the foster mom to find out...and she could offer no assistance. She was single, and she hadn't seen any interaction between Gus and a human male. So I began to worry about the first meeting between our newest family member and the Leader of our Pack, Mr. T.

No worries. No worries at all. They took to each other from the first like they had known each other all of their lives.

The only cause for pause in the day's activities came that first night. We all piled into the King-size bed ("just this once"...:-), and when play time was over, Mr. T tried to move Gus out of his spot. "Woo woo woo woo woo!" Nasty, snarling, downright scary. Nothing like a big, ol' sweet-natured Basset. Think Cujo.

We looked at each other in horror. What have we welcomed into our home and hearts? A monster? Duchess looked at us from her spot on the end of the bed as if to say, "I told you not to get him. When are you taking him back?"

Before we could spend too much more time in fear of our lives, Gus curled up into HIS spot and went off to sleep...with a smile on his face, if I recall correctly. Crisis ended.

Of course, the same thing, or some version of it, happened each and every time anyone tried to move G from HIS spot...wherever he decided that was for the moment. Just a part of his personality that we came to know and love. Well, with Duchess, "tolerate" would probably be a better word.

About the name change? Nah. I believe to this day that someone in the adoptive process observed one of his "Woo woo" tantrums and said, "my goodness. Isn't he a Fussy Gus?!" So Gus he was, and Gus he stayed.

Well. For the most part. He was also known as Gussie, Gussie-man, Mr. G, The G-man, Gussifer (like Lucifer...:-), Big Boy (once Elmo came into the Drool Gang as Little Boy), and several other names of endearment.

He loved BilJac Liver treats, probably because they were small and he could eat them easily, even with those filed-down front teeth. He enjoyed getting his hair dried, and would race down the hall when he heard the blow-dryer. He loved long, skinny soft stuffed toys...and I do believe he took inventory of what was in the Toy Basket on occasion. His favorite toy, however, was a red cherry tomato, which he would pick off the vine in containers on the deck...toss high in the air...and then catch like a rubber ball. He rarely broke the skin, but he would leave the "used" ones in the dirt where they would sprout the next year. Gus' Garden.

He was an Alpha dog and considered himself Pack Lead...yielding only to Mr. T, with whom he loved to spend nap-time on "their" lounge luge (as we call the Big Recliner). He was loud, large and in charge...and didn't miss an opportunity to tell the world. Woo woo!

Interestingly enough, he and Duchess never did learn how to be playmates. Ah well, no matter.

We celebrated nine wonderful years together in June, although that was subdued because he was not well. His big ol' heart had begun to give out on him, making breathing and walking difficult, and the steps nearly impossible. We knew it was his time last night when he suffered a seizure right before supper.

Thomas was with his buddy when Gus crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. He knew he was loved by his forever family. He will be missed...and never forgotten.

Rest in peace, Gussie-man. Woo woo.

Bell's Palsy Update: Day 11

Is it my imagination? Am I so desperate to awaken from this nightmare that I'm willing to believe that I'm experiencing some signs of healing...when it's just my getting used to the symptoms?

No. The changes are evident, even to a not-so-casual observer. Mr. T commented this morning on my speech...which he thinks is definitely becoming clearer and easier to understand. I know that my jaw is less painful today and seems to be loosening up a bit. I can even yawn! Perhaps the paralysis is receding? One can only hope...

Yesterday, for our July 4th celebration meal, we were excited to have received our Corky's order (photo of its arrival on Tuesday). Thanks to Internet ordering, the miracle that is dry ice, and that other Memphis champion, Federal Express, we were able to enjoy Memphis BBQ, three different ways: ribs, pulled pork shoulder, and chicken.

Speaking with all due modesty [ahem], I think my own homemade baked beans, potato salad, and cole slaw are a tad sight better than any restaurant (well, since the original Bozo's went out of business in Mason, TN, that is...:~\), so I was determined to do my part for our Fourth's Feast. I was also excited about using the tiny new potatoes from our HPNC garden (skins on) in my potato salad recipe [below]. I'm happy to report that I got all my To Do's done (check!) before exhaustion set in, and I headed for a pre-meal nap.

I actually hadn't intended to nap...I went into the bedroom to rest from the kitchen activities and to do some deep breathing and meditation. You see, I chose to add that as my "exercise" for yesterday (see previous posts about the six Facial Exercises I am doing). I had chosen as my mantra to bring about relaxation the phrase:

Breathing in: A calm mind...
Breathing out: ...enhances good health.

I read that recently...or something close to it...attributed to the Dalai Lama. It "spoke" to me and my current situation. Thought I'd give it a go. And it must have worked...perhaps a bit too well, since I went off to sleep for a couple of hours! Ah well...

While I was sleeping, Mr. T...who had the "run to the grocery with all the other nuts for the last minute and forgotten items"...brought home fabulous fat ears of sweet corn and a plump, juicy watermelon, and our menu was complete. He took over the cooking duties from there, and we were ready to dig in by 6:00.

Ribs? Corn on the cob? Uh, how do you eat either of those with half of a mouth, you may ask?

Well, it takes two steps, granted, and determination plays a big role. Missy M was the first to suggest that I cut the kernels off the cob with a sharp knife...and that worked really well. Then, because the ribs were so tender, I pulled the bones away from the meat. Of course, I ended up with as much BBQ sauce ON me as IN me, but I think that would happen, regardless of the Bell's Palsy...:~\ The BBQ fold-over sandwich wasn't quite the same success as I'm still working on the combination activities of getting my mouth open wide enough to receive a sandwich...and then closed back enough to chew it. And bread all tastes like PlayDoh. No matter...I was happy with the results...and full for the first time in a week.

Alas, last night was not the best around 1007, mainly because everyone...and I'm not exaggerating...in the neighborhood and three blocks away (except us) shot off fireworks from mid-afternoon until midnight. The dogs were ALL in various states of distress...and between their excited barking and the extended booming, well, I can definitely report that enhanced sensitivity to sounds is still with me. Sigh.

But let's not focus on what's wrong today; let's focus on what's right. Feeling does seem to be returning to my mouth, my lower lip, and the right side of my tongue. I am almost too hopeful for my own good, I suppose; but, I'm now daring to believe again that this may retreat by that 15-day deadline...which looms large on my calendar. This coming Monday, to be exact.

Altogether now: 15 days...15 days...15 days...15 days...15 days...15 days...!

===========================
July 4th Potato Salad

2-3 pounds of new potatoes, skins on
2 T. vinegar (or 1 T vinegar plus 1 T sweet pickle juice
1 tsp sugar
2 tsp salt (I like seasoned salt)
1 tsp ground pepper
1 cup Hellman's mayonnaise
1 T Dijon mustard
2 tsp prepared yellow mustard
2 hard-boiled eggs, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
1/2 onion, diced
1 small green or red sweet pepper, diced
8-10 sweet pickle slices (I like homemade!) or gherkins, more or less, diced

1. This is best if allowed 4-6 hours to chill. Cut the new potatoes into bite-size chunks and boil in salted water until fork-tender. When done, immediately drain in a colander and rinse with cold water to stop the cooking process. Put cooked potato chunks in a large mixing bowl.
2. Add the vinegar (or vinegar and pickle juice) to the cooked potatoes; toss gently. Add other diced ingredients and seasonings (salt, pepper, sugar, etc.). Toss again gently.
3. In a separate mixing cup, blend the mayonnaise and mustards into a dressing consistency. Pour this over the potato mixture and mix gently to incorporate thoroughly. Chill thoroughly to enhance flavors.
4. Prior to serving, check to see if salad could use a bit more mayonnaise. Potatoes can soak up the dressing, so add more if it appears dry.
5. Enjoy!

Bell's Palsy Update - Day 9

I posted the following on Facebook this morning, but I wanted to share it with those of you who aren't (yet...:-) FB fanatics:

If you want to read the whole story...and, if you interested in learning more about BP, I think it's a good one...here is the link for you to click:
http://gma.yahoo.com/c-tv-reporter-loses-her-smile-bells-palsy-164432652--abc-news-wellness.html

Thank you, one and all, who contacted me after I posted a couple of my BP at One Week photos. You were too kind...but very reassuring. Did you notice in that article that the reporter showed her BP photo...taken at one week? Interesting.

I did want to put a little note in about my posts and the attached photos. As I now have to use TWO applications in order to post anything with photos [since Safari...the Apple OS browser, used on the iPhone and iPad...doesn't "do" Flash, which Google...keeper of my blog...requires to post photos], you may arrive on my blog while I am still working on the day's post, switching between the Aps. I try to work as quickly as possible, but there are times that things just may not look right. Sorry. Chalk it up to Technical Difficulties.

I don't have a lot to report from me today. Just finished doing my 6 Facial Exercises (see two previous posts), but decided not to add any more...I probably have been a little too enthusiastic in doing them. Had a rough night...couldn't get comfortable. Still need my eyepatch most of the time. Eating is still an issue. Loud noises (dogs barking, pots and pans banging, etc.) still painful. Still lots of jaw pain (joint), now with neck pain (muscle). Tried one of my muscle relaxers that I've been prescribed for when I have lower back problems...thought it couldn't hurt. Eased the muscle tension in my neck a bit...but put me to sleep mid-morning. Ah well...

OK...now I'd like to leave you with something beautiful to behold...a picture of one of our Daylilies in bloom last week in HPNC, taken by Mr. T on his iPad. This is one we brought from MO, purchased at the Wine Country Gardens Daylily Farm in Defiance, which is STILL my fav, called South Seas. Enjoy!

Bell's Palsy Update: Starting Week No. 2

Today I laughed...and ate soup without choking. Progress, you ask? Well, the eternal optimist who resides in my soul says "I sure hope so." It's Day 8 of this nightmare called Bell's Palsy, and I'm really ready to see some progress, however small it may seem.

Since I feel like smiling...although at present, it's only half of a smile with half of my face...I decided that the exercises* I would add to my Facial Exercise routine would be focused upon SMILING:

4. Smile without showing teeth; then smile showing teeth.

5. Try moving your lips into a small smile slowly. Then gently pucker slowly using equal strength from both sides.

6. Using your index finger and thumb pull the corners of your lips in toward the center. Slowly and smoothly push out and up into a smile. Continue the movement up to the cheekbone. Use a firm pressure.

With the three exercises from yesterday's list, that gives me a solid routine...one that I can easily do multiple times each day. My sweet suitemate, KD, says she believes faithfully doing the facial exercises were key to her own recovery from Bell's.

And because I seem to have been able to control my jaw pain with massage, heat, and a topical NSAID cream called Voltaren Gel (prescribed for joint and back pain due to arthritis), I am able to do these exercises without too much extra tenderness. If it begins to hurt, I stop. The main thing? I feel like I'm doing something...you know?

[A funny aside: the original prescription for Voltaren came from Momma's pain management doctor in Missouri, Dr. V, who also treated me for my back pain...and I received a scrip for it, too. When we moved to NC, Momma got another prescription from her neurologist...but I let mine expire. Well, her insurance required her to receive a 90-day supply of her long-term meds from mail order...and this stuff would arrive by the box-loads. When she died, we found a mountain of Voltaren stored in a small dresser. Now, I'm ever-so-thankful...:~\]

Progress...however small or slight...allows me to believe that there are better days, just over my horizon. And because I believe this, I can think about life returning to normal.

And "normal" for me in July means shopping for Daylilies. Two years ago, we made the rounds of open sales at Daylily farms in NC, purchasing quite a few varieties for the Way Back Garden. Here is one of those, Alabama Jubilee, in bloom this year.

So, why should this July be any different? Just because I am 400 miles from home...and half of my face is paralyzed? Nah. I can't let those obstacles stand in my way of moving forward, can I?

Mr. T and I, with Missy M's assistance, have researched local Daylily farms, and we've located two within driving distance that sound promising. They are both open later on this week, and I have my heart set on seeing this through.

The problem? I'm still struggling with how I look and sound to others. I did make one foray to Walgreen's and one to CVS...but pharmacies don't count, since there's probably some expectation of some degree of incapacitation. No, the only real "test" was a trip to Walmart's Neighborhood Market (a really neat place, dedicated to groceries and a pharmacy...not at all like a regular Walmart Super Center), where I wore my sunglasses, spoke to no one, and did self-checkout. Anonymous.

[Reminds me of a great line in Mission Impossible, spoken by Vanessa Redgrave as Max, where she says "anonymity is like a warm blanket."]

No...going to a Daylily Farm, where I will need to see colors, read descriptions, ask questions, and be "among the crowd," will be a real test for me, both physically and emotionally. Am I up to it? Hmmm.

Toward that end, and in hopes of encouraging another Bell's Palsy sufferer who has wandered into my world looking for a kindred spirit, I am posting a "before" shot and a couple of the "at one week" photos I took yesterday.

Regular readers will probably recognize the "before" picture from this past Christmas. I chose it because it was taken the last time I was here in Louisville. Appropriate, huh?

The next two pictures were taken with my iPad in front of the bathroom mirror on Day 7. I was following a protocol of documentation photos I found on the Bell's Palsy Support site on Facebook. The moderator took shots including no smile, attempting to smile not showing teeth, attempting to smile showing teeth, and attempting to raise both eyebrows (which tracks the neurological tests they give you prior to diagnosis). These are least-worst of the bunch, trust me.

I have a long way to go, don't I?


My intention is to encourage others...not cause anyone any discomfort...and to start preparing myself for going back out into the world and doing things I love.

In other words...moving forward. Making progress.

=======================

* Source for the Facial Exercises mentioned is: http://www.bellspalsy.ws/exercise.htm