On Being Human

On the 5th night after surgery I slept like a rock. Maybe that's because I hadn't properly slept since I left the surgeon's office, or maybe I was just exhausted from doing nothing for so long, but in any event I slept well and felt almost human when I awoke.

I'm beginning to look like myself again, but it's too soon to tell if I'm a younger version of myself or not. The eyes, clearly, are different, but the chipmunk cheeks from the swelling make it difficult to tell what I look like underneath the bruises. DH says there's a real difference in the number of countable chins but he's a good man who like to tell me what I want to hear so his opinion is suspect.

I'm fascinated by the way the incisions around the ear were done; almost imperceptible around the front and very thin around the back. I can detect no stitches around the front of my ears and can't figure out how the incisions were closed; glue, maybe? (Don't laugh; superglue was originally a skin adhesive.)

I'm still missing some feeling in the right ear, and there's a steady ache in my cheekbones, but neither is unbearable. My neck is still very tight; turning my body seems to make so much more sense than turning my head. I had to sneeze today, and the shock to my eyes and neck with the jolt of the sneeze was like being zapped with a taser. (OK, I've never personally been zapped by a taser, but it felt just like it looks on TV.)

I did sneak out of the house for about 30 seconds in the middle of the night; it was trash day, a chore usually attended to by The Man of the House, but he pulled a hamstring playing basketball and went to bed without setting out the recycling. When it occurred to me that someone should do it and the choices were slim, I sneaked out, ace bandage wrapped around my head, and took the trash to the curb. The night was brisk, the stars were out, and to some small degree it was like getting out of jail.