So here's the thing about brain surgery. You do end up with staples in your head. Apparently, Jenny's surgeon is an artist, however... she gets nothing but complements from doctors.
Jenny is returning from her odyssey, just as I am. We are both quite lightheaded, me from the romance, she from the meds. While I was away she had not one, not two, but three craniotomies. That's where they saw a piece of your skull out to fix your thinking jelly.
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| Out for a strut around the hallways. |
All that time I was
lighting candles for her in Italy, Jenny was either knocked out from pain medication or online researching her conditions. Not only did she have an AVM, the doctors discovered two aneurysms in other parts of her brain. The brain bleed, which harmed her color vision, also may have, in a weird way, saved her life. She is desperate for a prediction, but there are no accurate percentages for recovery from the weird thing that happened.
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| There are the most beautiful colors under that eye patch. |
"I'm not afraid of dying," she confessed before I left, "but I don't think I could bear living without color." As an artist studying
classical realism, she had just moved from value to color and the whole world looked different, beautiful, as she was understanding the nuances of hue. I believe she will recover, because that is the kind of person she is, but it will be a long journey as well as a
long recovery, and for now, seeing the world half washed-out is keenly painful, sorrowful.
Our reunion, however, was joyous. She looked pretty beat up, but no less beautiful. She loved the souvenirs, especially the little bottle of Limoncello, which made her feel colors on her tongue, and the mighty head hat.
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Jenny snuggling her daughter Katie, in the armored cashmere hat
from the Great Mall of the Roman Suburbs. |
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