It is also time for me to look in the mirror. I have been avoiding this. I have glanced but I have not had the courage to take the time to examine my altered expression. This might be due to the fact that the night I first saw a stranger staring back at me from my face I was horrified. Possibly due to all the pain medicine I've been given I actually thought momentarily that I'd been transformed into a monster. But two weeks is long enough to avoid facts. It was time to look.
I decided I would not only look but also examine the face in the mirror, after all it did belong to me. I started with my forehead. It really was kind of interesting how I could almost see where the paralyses began. The left half of my face had all the familiar wrinkles. The wrinkles seemed to me like friends who shared a memory. The left side of my forehead was smooth and I wondered if it would have looked like this if I'd had a Botox shot. Next the eye. I think this might be one of the more interesting changes. It was the eye that scared me that first night. I was curious about the eyebrow. It looked different on the paralyzed side and that didn't make since to me. I decided that perhaps the change in the eyebrow was a result of residue left behind by the tape I've been using to keep it closed. As I stared at the reflection of the unblinking eye I thought how much it looked like it should belong to someone else. I could see nothing about it that was familiar. Perhaps it was because both the lid and lash of that eye were not visible and the lower lid looked as if it had just given up trying to hold on and hung loosely beneath the eyeball exposing a whitish valley below. When I smiled it pulled my nose slightly to the left and I realized that I no longer had the straight nose I was familiar with. Now to the cheek or the lack there of. There is an expression called the apple of your cheek it could easily been seen on the left side of my face and I have to admit I found it pretty. On the right side it appeared that the apple must have been slightly rotten because it wasn't round but somewhat indented. Finally, I come to my mouth. Only the right lips could smile the left lips drooped in a perpetual frown. For the first week I had been unable to make my jaws fit together which caused me agony when trying to chew. When they finally began to meet together I was so excited that I didn't use caution while chewing and discover at the end of the day that, no, the food had not been more salty I had simply been biting my own lips, tongue and cheek. OUCH! My examination was complete. I felt vulnerable joining my church family with a face that didn't really feel like it belong to me anymore.
I thought about the mask Eric wore in the Phantom of the Opera. I wondered if he'd let me borrow it to go to church. I only wanted to hide half my face surly there was nothing wrong with that was there? That's when the Lord brought to my mind Rachael Kulick. Rachael has Alopecia. Alopecia is a type of hair loss that occurs when you immune systems mistakenly attacks your hair follicles. I didn't know Rachael was bald when I first met her but I didn't know it because she never left her home without a wig, That is until one hot Summer day when she found that she just couldn't stand the sensation of wearing a fur hat on her head any longer. So she took off her wig and flung it into the seat beside her. She then proceeded to open her car door and go into the bank. This caused her little girl to panic because Chrissy believed that if her mommy went into the bank without her wig on the people would not love her and Chrissy's tender little heart could not bear the thought that anyone might not love her mommy. That was the last time Rachael ever wore a wig. She realized that she had a job to do as a mother to teach her daughter what real beauty looks like.
My heavenly Father knew that I like Rachael's daughter Chrissy desperately needed the example of her strength and courage to help me walk into the church for the first time with my altered face. But this is what takes place it corporate worship we join someone in their struggles so that together we might enter into His gates with thanksgiving and into his courts with praise. So with a crocked smile I turn to Rachael and say, "Come on. Let's go the house of the Lord together!" This Sunday Rachael and I will be worshiping together. She's the one without a wig and I'm the one without a mask.
Here's Rachael's blog where she writes about her experience:
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