Squared Up Part III

It has been seven days since my surgery.  My left eye itches a fair amount, as there are slow-dissolving sutures in the outside muscle that have pulled my eye straight for the first time in fifty years.

I take eyedrops four times a day, which are a combination of antibiotics and steroids for the inflammation.  I can see light, dark and beginning of images through my left eye.  Right now, with my right eye closed and covered, I can see the brightness of my computer monitor and the darkness of my keyboard.  I think I can see the blue taskbar of this particular program, which would be Windows Live Writer.  Yep.  It has a blue taskbar.

The strangest effect of all this, is between my ears.  I look in the mirror and I’m not entirely sure who is looking back.  I know, logically, it is me, as nobody else lives here:  That haircut is a dead giveaway.

Which speaks to how we see ourselves, our perceptions of what we look like and how others recognize us.  Most people feel a little uneasy when they see a picture of themselves.  A picture is an accurate representation of how we look, but it doesn’t quite mesh with how we perceive ourselves.  Our self-identification contains not only the physicality but the emotional and behavioral aspect of who we are.

I’ve always avoided looking directly at my face, as the wonky eye bothers me.  Correction, it bothered me.  It doesn’t bother anyone else, I know, but it bothered me, being tied into all kinds of other memories, fears and darker things in the human soul.  We see our flaws, to the exclusion of everything else.

A common example:  Think back to your teenage years.  Odds are you had a pimple or two.  Looking in the mirror, to you, it probably seemed like it was the size of Montana, was big enough to plant a flag on the top and park cars in the shadow of it.  For that period of time, it became the only thing you could see on your face. 

My situation is somewhat the same, except it has gone on for a long time.  This morning, as the swelling goes down some more, I am marveling at the image in the mirror looking back at me.  It seems like the David I know, but something is different.  I am unlearning my visual self-image and replacing it with the New David. 

If you color your hair, you have felt that same psychic wobble, going from brown to red, or blonde as an example.  It is The New You in the mirror.  Brighter, younger, more vivacious, sexier, whatever attributes you might care to use.  Then it becomes the new Normal, things settle down and you ‘recognize’ yourself again. 

Yet, logically you know that the only change from yesterday to today is having your hair colored.  Your eyes are the same color, you’ve got the same beauty mark and your nose is still the same shape.  You still like Barolo or Kraft Dinner.  The only change is the color of your hair, but it feels different and even nice.

It doesn’t quite feel nice to me yet.  That might take a while to get to the point of nice, as self-image is a component of ego and a component of self-worth, which ties to self-confidence, values, happiness, sadness, fear, memories and four thousand other attributes of personality.

As for visual acuity out the left side, I can’t see depth, but I am seeing the beginnings of shapes, colors and light.  Maybe that’s all I’ll get.  I’m not hoping for anything beyond the eye healing up close to straight.  Anything after that is pure bonus.

The rest, I’ll adapt to as I go.  It might be good, it might be bad, or it might be somewhere in between. 

It is bittersweet however, as the image of the little boy, the teenager, the young man, the adult and the middle-aged man, all named David, with that one eye looking off someplace else, is gone. 

Replaced with what, we shall find out.

So, Goodbye my friends.  And Hello!

Cheers!

David