I am having a super ridiculous somewhat productive but also seriously "SQUIRREL!" distracted day where I am multitasking and trying to whack-a-mole too many things on my too-long lists. So! *claps hands* Why not throw in a blog post too?
1. I am trying not to completely freak out/wail in despair over the work that still needs to be done to my head so that I look normal and not mutilated and have hair all over my whole head. I Googled lots of info etc. about tissue expanders and scalp repair, and I can't recommend that you do that because it's pretty grotesque and horrifying when the photos come up. I am going to have to revert to my shut-in state for...awhile. I mean, it's going to be seriously Eraserhead territory, with a ginormous bulge on the top or the back of my head. I'm looking for turbans on Etsy. TURBANS. Because I don't know what the hell else to do. But. BUT. Temporary. Breathe. And the end result photos are pretty amazing. End game, Roberta. End game.
2. Related to the above, I have more or less re-entered society. I'm in the office at least a couple of days a week. I'm taking Helene to her usual activities. I hate being fussed over, so it's sometimes hard for me to take some of the effusive welcome-backs of my colleagues and fellow parents. But I'm being gracious, I swear, because their concern is genuine, and I have the best colleagues and friends, I do. I really wouldn't mind, though, if we all just pretended it never happened. I'm self-conscious about my head all the time, checking my headband to make sure it hasn't slipped to reveal a shocking peek of gauze or bald, scabby head, or tuft of growing-back hair.
3. And OK, fine, I admit talking to the other humans about what faces me in the future makes it less large and looming and scary. I know my friends won't bat an eye if/when I appear at the pool this summer with some kind of crazy headgear to try to camouflage the bulge of the tissue expander. They'll know why, and they understand, and they'll be awesome about it, and it will make the inevitable stares easier to bear.
4. I have been online shopping for glasses. I am ridiculously nearsighted; truly, almost no one has an Rx as strong as mine. I resigned myself to paying stupid amounts of money for glasses. But enter Zenni Optical and Warby Parker. I ordered glasses from Zenni, and paid $70, INCLUDING SHIPPING. That is literally hundreds of dollars less than I have paid for glasses in the past. I think the lowest amount I have ever paid for glasses previously is in the $250-$300 range, and that had to be 10 years ago. The Zenni glasses fit fine; the prescription seems right on; they are light and thin. However, I didn't choose my frames wisely; I need as narrow a lens width as possible, otherwise the lenses in the glasses are very, very thick at the edges, which is cosmetically unappealing, and difficult to deal with in putting them in the frames. Zenni did its best with what I chose, and beveled out the thick parts, a technique that I haven't seen before, so the lenses look a little weird:
But whatever, they were $70! This was an experiment. And I only wear them mornings & evenings at home, when I don't have my contacts in. So, I'm going to buy another pair, maybe from Warby Parker. Their glasses are a little more, but when you're used to paying $300 or more for glasses, $125 is NOTHING. I find their selection less intimidating than Zenni's - there are kind of too many to choose from and it's not that easy to sort them on the Zenni site. I'm doing the at-home try on thing for WP, and may decadently have a second pair of glasses!
5. The thing is, I may soon not need serious glasses or contacts any more. The day before my accident, I was at the eye doctor for my annual exam. Because I am appallingly nearsighted, and my eyeballs are so elongated, I have already started developing cataracts in the natural lenses of my eyes. This is not unexpected for someone as nearsighted as me. That sounds bad, but it's actually great. For years, I wanted to get a certain kind of refractive eye surgery, which involves the implant of a tiny lens behind the iris, called a phakic intraocular implant (I can't get LASIK because my correction is too high). But it's not covered by insurance and is about $5,000 an eye. I even considered being in a clinical trial, but it was still too expensive at the time. I chose my eye doctor because he was in a practice with a doctor who is an expert in phakic implants, and correcting extremely myopic sight, like mine. But now, with the cataracts, they can take out the natural lens and replace it with a prescription one. Fully covered by insurance! A tried and true surgery - thousands upon thousands done all the time. This surgeon has done a few thousand himself. NO MORE GLASSES (other than twee little granny reading glasses). NO MORE CONTACTS. No more of the expense, the inconvenience, the squinting, the battling dry eyes. I was supposed to have a surgical consult with the expert refractive eye surgeon in early December, a week after my accident. Obviously, I cancelled, and have not rescheduled. This sounds crazy, but I'm considering scheduling a new appointment soon, to see if he could do my eyes before they have to go back in on my head. I'm crazy. It's just hard to wait.
6. Frivolous purchase time! Being cold and unhappy and housebound makes me look for pretty things online. Right now, especially pretty things that remind me of warm weather. This Boden dress is on its way to me. I'd love it if it fits!
7. More frivolity! I always desire things from J. Peterman, because, duh, how can you not, after getting swept up in the prose of each piece? But I rarely buy anything, because it is often expensive. But this was 50% off a couple of days ago, and I needed it. For something. Sometime. The Dinner Party Blouse.