Until a few days ago when Emily's face became almost totally paralyzed I hadn't really consciously considered how important our eyes are to expressing our emotions. I suppose I knew this instinctively, but I had always thought of eyes more aesthetically and less pragmatically. Without the rest of our facial muscles, however, the eyes bear the burden of proof.
Eyes are powerful communicators. Consider the corrective glance of the seasoned mother as she silently conveys her displeasure to her child, or the unavoidable and haunting eyes of Picasso's Guernica. (sorry about the Picasso, but Thomas Hopper told me he was talking about Job in Sunday school, and Job made me thing of the unmitigated suffering in Guernica) Every pair of eyes tells a story.
This story has a happy end, however, so bear with me a bit.
About an hour ago as the nurses were about to change shifts, Emily's nurse (who speaks with considerable alacrity) asked her about her favorite kind of soda. Emily momentarily rolled her eyes (yes she can do that now) because she's growing tired of people talking about food around her. Being fed through a tube can do that to a person. But to humor the nurse she began to spell out "Coke."
The nurse said, "well, how about if we put some coke on some foam swabs and let you taste it?"
I have rarely, if ever, seen such a look of unbridled joy on Emily's face. Her eyes told the story.
Our floor was out of Coke, but our nurse went all the way to a different floor to make it happen, and Emily had her first taste of Coke in over a week. Perhaps today wasn't such a disappointment after all.
