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Still closing one eye to do this, as wearing a patch all day cuts into your forehead. But a week of drinking only the alcohol-free, juice and spring-water "cordials" I would previously have sneered at has made me look about ten years younger, skinwise, so... swings and roundabouts.
And the thing about my left eye is, even though it can't really see (it's not quite the 5th dimensional alphabet of a week ago, I think... or maybe I'm getting used to it)... it's looking more like an eye. It's looking more like my right eye. It is a beautiful thing to watch, like a baby forming into human shape; swelling goes down a little, and the lines change, and gradually it starts to morph into something that you can actually hope is going to ... at least almost, or mostly match. Which, considering it was kicked in and cut open twice, is a miracle. I really feel it's a miracle. My left eye is still mishapen and bloodstained, and it's got cuts and bruises round it, but feel I'm looking at myself again.
The me before it happened. You understand.
I appreciate more now what Twice 5 Toes said above, about thanking hir donor every day. I feel like thanking my surgeon every time I look at my face. If I have a face I can look at in the mirror now, it's no longer because of genes, or God. It's because of Mr Huppa.
Do you think it would be... an appropriate thing, if I were to write him a letter of thanks? I feel like it. |
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