Day 7 — A Week of Selfies
So I’ve managed to actually post for seven days — definitely not perfectly, but there’s been something every.single.day. Yes, like the kids, I occasionally do the periods between the words thing.
No body shots today — but I have about three face shots taken earlier and very quickly on the iphone. I wanted to see how my expression changed and it’s obvious I’m no photographer. But part of this project is to become more objective and less sensitive to my looks as I’m aging.
So that means my double (triple, quadruple …) chin and crepey neckline is out there. Yep — turkey neck. My teeth which used to be straight but are now a bit crooked are out there.
My ptosis is out there. You don’t know what a ptosis is? It’s an eyelid droop. I have it on my left eyelid only, hence the odd look to my eyes. And it’s pronounced toe-sis. It’s genetic — my mother has it and my son does, too. I’ve had surgery once, but over time and as you age, it starts drooping again. The first surgery wasn’t considered cosmetic because the droop can occlude vision. But I’m now told by my opthamologist that insurance doesn’t pay anymore for fixing them.
Seems stupid to me, but what do I know? I guess if I end up in an accident because my vision was compromised . . . Anyway, it’s mostly unsightly and embarrassing, although I’m not keen on getting in an accident, either.
I wore glasses when I was six years old until I was 13 when I got my first pair of contact lenses. Back then, the only kind were hard lenses which were a bit difficult to learn to use. Most 13-year-olds wouldn’t be up for the task, frankly, but I so hated wearing glasses, I was a model patient and adapted quickly.
Flash forward — oh, about forty years or so and I start having major dry eye problems, rendering the contacts very painful. I was never able to use soft lenses, although my lenses over the years morphed into what is known as gas permeable lenses. Still they’d never be as comfortable as soft lenses.
Eventually the moment of truth came — was I going to try and cure the dry eye with drops or other medications or tear duct surgery, or switch back to glasses. I opted for very expensive glasses, but at least they are comfortable and easy to use.
Like a lot of things in life as you age — I had to re-think who I was back in glasses. I liked wearing contacts a lot and I got four decades of use, so it isn’t like it was nothing. Frankly, the idea of being a “four eyes” once again was for a while, kind of terrifying. I got over it, but it took the adult me to be sweet to the kid me and yet firm, too.
So this is the dog, Izzy. She was named by the rescue folks and she responds to it, so efforts to change her name by my mom went nowhere fast. Although she was going for Bobbi (probably in tribute to the crazy dog-rescue lady who lived in her apartment complex), which isn’t measurably better than Izzy.
She’s definitely part Chihuahua and part terrier. We think that’s probably Jack Russell Terrier (although it’s possible rat terrier, too), but we haven’t popped for the doggie DNA test yet to confirm just what kind of terrier we’re talking about. She’s a mostly sweet mutt, at least to Bob and I. To my son, not so much. Life is never perfect, but it’s good.