8. “...stick around until the bandages come off” (Time: Tom Waits)

One of the best opening paragraphs I read as a child went something like this:
“When I awoke I knew something was different. I had a remarkably clear view of the ceiling...” It turns out that the narrator has turned invisible and his clear view was because his nose was no longer in the way. I thought of this the first time I had a shower the day after the initial operation in June. Looking downwards, I could see my belly from an angle I hadn’t seen since I was twelve. Depressing as this was, the area was still so padded up with dressings it would be a few weeks before I needed to fully face the truth of what was hidden underneath.

I thought too of another memorable detail from my childhood reading. In “Helen Keller’s Teacher”, the teacher, Annie Sullivan, almost blind due to a childhood eye disease, has her sight restored after a series of operations. The description of the bandages coming off and the revelation of her returned sight are both intense and exciting.

I think a lot about the coming off of bandages: in Tom Waits song, ‘Time’ and the two books I’ve mentioned. If I’m honest here, I’m using these references to others’ experiences to delay talking about mine. But here I am, having made a commitment to this blog and would feel a coward not to talk about this part. If I nip off to see if we have any courage in the cupboard whilst I’m telling you this, please be patient!

Six days after this last operation, the reconstruction one on 9th December, was the day I was allowed to remove some of the outer bandages. As I had been told to keep the dressings dry, the first celebration was washing my hair and the second, pulling off the by now rather itchy dressings. Blue Peter Christmas presents came to mind: peeling back sticky-backed plastic to reveal something made earlier. The view from above was promising, but plenty of blue bruising was less pretty. It's good to have got this far though. The permanent implants are settling in, and although there is 2% chance of infection, my fear of it is diminishing.

Even when the final dressings are removed, it will be a whole lot better than the day in the shower, two weeks after the June operation, when at last the dressings gave way to the flowing water and I finally had to confront what they had been hiding. If Ann Sullivan’s bandages being removed gave her sight, mine revealed an image of sightlessness, a lost face with a scar slashed across it and the central eye sealed over. It was the ugliest face I had ever seen and I wept for the pity of it, glad that the tears mingled with the water and the sounds of my sobs were masked by the gurgling drain.

Now I’ve told you. Time washes away even the worst times.

Tom Waits-Time, from the 1985 album 'Rain Dogs'. Backing video taken from a live performance on the 1988 film 'Big Time'.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_eR0IVSOhY&feature=player_embedded