Reading Faces

I spend a lot of time looking at Rosemarie's face.

Looking for clues to how she is feeling, what she may be thinking, or what in her environment she is aware of. 

Like most long term couples we became very familiar with each others' facial expressions, and enjoyed (usually) the subtle communication of micro expressions and the sense of intimacy that brings.

Seems so long ago now. 

There are still expressions of course, it is just that most of them seem to be in a foreign language or belong to someone I do not know. 

For a long time it was a medicated slackness with drooping lids and loose lips: classic lights on but nobody home. Then we stopped the Clonazepam and there was more aliveness, but also worrying signs of possible stroke as the right side of her face drooped slackly. One eye would be shut and the other only half open. 

Then we had a period of several months where she lost definition in her jaw. It hung loosely and her lower lip parked itself behind her top front teeth. Feeding her became difficult and increasingly messy. She looked increasingly disoriented and distressed, and trying to read her face was a heartbreaking activity.

Over the last few weeks there has been a change. She is very sleepy after lunch, and sometimes does not wake up until nearly supper time, but when she does her eyes are wide and clear and she makes strong and purposeful sounds. 

She still shows no signs of recognising me except as another being: the care workers get a lot more smiles than I do. But I get the impression from watching her closely that something is going on, in her deep lonely world, that is maybe not quite as frightening as it used to be.

I am not going to fool myself with hopes that anything is getting better, but maybe it is getting different.