Tuesday, March 27, 2012

War Paint

It sounds like a small thing (and one I should be thankful for since it's keeping me properly oxygenated) but I hate using my oxygen tank. On days when I feel good, it is the one reminder that things are nowhere near normal. Total mental drain.

Getting used to sleeping with an oxygen cannula in my nose hasn't been easy. I'm constantly wrapped in the 50 foot cord and it falls off or moves and pokes me in the eye when I move in my sleep. Even more annoying than that, however, is the sleep line like dent it leaves in my right cheekbone. When I was 20, I'd wake up with sleep lines on my face and they would be gone by the time I was out of the shower in the morning. Today, this line was there when I woke up and now (about 6 hours later) it is still there. Persistent little bugger.

I can't get rid of it so I kinda feel like highlighting it with gold body glitter a la Padma Lakshmi or painting it with war paint. This is, after all, the battle for my life/health. I feel a photo shoot coming.

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