Face Case

I'll say this much, briefly for now, about Bell's palsy (a well-perused Wikipedia entry here): it's a lot more fun watching it clear up than watching it set in. Since Tuesday morning it's been a very slow but steady return of facial strength. Delightfully, I can shut my right eye now, though not very tightly. And I'm back to a lopsided smile instead of a toothy, half-numb grimace. I still can't raise my right eyebrow, which it turns out is very heavy. (I really should enjoy it, since I've always kind of wanted to be able to quizzically raise one eyebrow, but under normal circumstances I can't. Now it's all I can do! I can quizzically raise one eyebrow like I'm a motherf*****g Michael Chabon character.)

But the fact that things are improving now (i.e. two weeks after onset) is a very strong sign that things will go back to completely normal. So I finally have the chance to muse on the condition, which I do think is an intriguing one, without the peripheral worry about having to cope with it long-term, even if that scenario was always unlikely by the numbers.

More to the point, for now, I think my beleaguered sense of taste is more or less back to normal. Which is excellent timing: I'm about to head off to the Adirondacks to hang out with the parents for a long weekend, and I'd hate to have to do that with my beer appreciation capability compromised. Plus, I get to introduce them to Madeleine, making this the first time I've brought a new girl home (or, in this case, "home" to vacation) since the early '00s. And Mike will be there, instead of in Shanghai. So hurrah, hurrah for everything.

And after that, it'll be time to undo the habit-forming inertia of my preferred method of convalescing, which has involved eating a lot of ice cream while watching episodes of 30 Rock on internet-streaming Netflix. On the minus side, you don't get anything accomplished in your life this way; but on the plus side, the one where Carrie Fisher guest-stars is hilarious.