Tragicomedy—That's Me!!

Fall, although I love the season, is laced with issues for me. My body doesn't love it so much. Dampness, grayness, changes to heavier footwear, carrying more stuff—it's your basic conspiracy against my body!

After my last post, I should say that I had a very, very talented plastic surgeon. The right side of my face went from flat and bubbling when I would breathe to same ole, same ole—at least if you don't look closely. So if I meet people I haven't seen, say, since high school, my face doesn't give me away. Right away. At the time my face was sufficiently rearranged that three people who came to visit looked at me and passed out. (No shame. I'm sure it was a bit of a shock. The staff wouldn't let me see myself. Although I eventually discovered that those tray things have mirrors inside. And then I was kind of fascinated and mesmerized by watching myself breathe!)

There are some strategically placed scars. There's a bump on my nose (that's where my fancy titanium plate bolts in and ends). I have a new and improved tear duct. If I lay my finger aside of my nose, my eye itches. But the big clue is, especially on gray days, I'm Tragicomedy! My face is smiling, but my right eye is leaking. Looks kinda like I'm crying.

Following facial reconstruction surgery (aka Part 1 of Putting Wendy Together Again), my right eye became photophobic and teared almost constantly. My lower lid muscles got trapped in scar tissue, as among the places they opened up to get the plate in was right below my lashes where one would put eyeliner. So I couldn't fully blink. (The plastic surgeon said 80% of the people who had the degree of injury I did would have lost the eye completely.) In the hospital I actually hid it under the top sheet from the flourescent lighting to make the tearing stop! Over the years it has improved substantially, and now, with middle age and the need for bifocals, as long as the glasses are sitting on my nose properly, it's much better. I got that fancy transitions coating on my lenses (in the brown variant—the gray makes it significantly worse). And presto! Now I leak significantly less.

Incidentally, among the things I learned in my navigation of the medical system, is there is such a thing as an ophthalmic plastic surgeon who can release scar tissue, teach your eyelid what "up" is, and later on build you a new tear duct. Who knew???

But when the light outdoors changes, I become my alter ego ... Tragicomedy! Which oddly enough, is the way I want to be. I want to see the good in lousy situations. I want to be able to laugh when things aren't unfolding the way I'd like. Most of the time I can. And I'm all about happy endings ...

Today I'm not just leaking, I'm "spanxed", but that's a subject for another post!