It’s Not About Me
Our daughter and son-in-law recently took some pictures of Kevin and me for our 35th anniversary. They have a nice camera and did a great job, but when they sent a few pictures to preview I texted back: "Thanks for taking the pictures. I have to say it's a bit hard to see how much my weak, lopsided smile and face have changed from what they used to be like...But it may be par for the course now. Oh well, we still have each other." The sad picture of a medically challenged, graying, middle age lady looks strangely unfamiliar. Not only have my lip muscles weakened causing the odd, lopsided smile, the inability to hold up my head contributes to an odd scrunched look in my cheeks and chin. There's a big gap between my two front teeth from constant pressure from my tongue. I suffer many indignities, but the most humiliating for me is the incessant drooling. In fact, when we're alone at home I often just bite on a folded washcloth stuffed in my mouth to get a little rel...