"We can let circumstances rule us, or we can take charge and rule our lives from within.”
— Earl Nightingale
BY LOIS GREENE STONE
It was easy being pretty, with my large blue-green-grey eyes. My wholesome smile was never fake. My face never had the camouflage of makeup. That was "me” since childhood.
One morning in February 2003, I woke up and the right half of my face was paralyzed. My right eye couldn’t blink, my forehead was frozen, half my lips were in a set position, and my nose had one nostril pulled toward the nonparalyzed side. Without warning or understanding, my means of relating to the world was shut off.
My eye was taped shut to protect the cornea, and speech was difficult. The neurologist said the longer the paralysis went on, the more permanent the problems.
An eye doctor suggested sewing the affected lid closed and told me to get eyeglasses, because anything could fly into my eye, as I had no blink reflex. I went for window-glass eyewear. On my nose, the frame looked crooked.
I pushed my straight blond hair behind my ears. My pretty face that had exhibited "me” with a constant and symmetrical smile now looked grotesque and reflected the stern, unmovable expression of people who show disdain toward others.
When I decided to take charge of this obstacle in my life, I first went to the supermarket. The stares were bad enough, but many people moved away from me as if I were contagious.
My speech was slow, as I had to think the words in my head and then decide on a synonym if a word began with a "b” or "p” because those required either use of cheek muscles or the ability to blow air.
I went out for dinner.
"You have a lot of courage to be out looking like that,” I was told.
Cruel.
41° 