I’d had neck pain for a few days, but I put it down to stress (which I’ve had a lot of recently). Then my tongue started to feel tingley and a bit numb. As a diabetic, the alarm bells started ringing a little, but I thought maybe it was a trapped nerve in my neck.
The night before ‘day 1’ my upper lip went a little numb too, and the alarm bells really kicked off. I figured I’d go see my doctor if it didn’t clear up over the weekend.
The next morning, Friday, I was getting ready for work and noticed that my right eye felt funny. I checked in the mirror and saw it wasn’t blinking fully! I tried not to panic and started Googling “numb tongue eye not blinking”. The results that came back were the predictable jumble from the benign to the terrifying.
Then I remembered the ‘FAST’ stroke test, so tried to smile in the mirror. Fail. The right side was lifting but only about halfway. So I woke my husband (who was snoozing before his homeworking day would start at 9am) with the terrible words: “Wake up, love. I think I’m having a stroke.”
Four hours, several paramedics, three nurses and a pair of doctors later, and they thankfully ruled that out. However, the options were either shingles or Bell’s Palsy – the docs couldn’t agree. I was hoping for shingles – it sounded less scary! (Though I looked it up later and agreed with the senior A&E consultant when she said: “For your sake, I hope it’s Bell’s Palsy.”)
They prescribed me the anti-viral drug aciclovir, but not prednisolone as it suppresses the immune system, which would be bad if I did have shingles. Plus some eye gunk in a tube: Lacri-Lube. I also picked up some gauze, microporous tape (they advised me that I have to protect my eye, especially when sleeping) and ibuprofen for the pain.
Once I got home from the hospital, I looked up Bell’s Palsy and started to worry that not getting the prednisolone would impede my recovery. But until they could rule out shingles I had to wait. One study has shown that prednisolone helps if taken in the first 72 hours – so if I could get to my doctors on Monday morning, I’d hopefully just make the cut. That’s assuming shingles didn’t rear its horrible, painful head over the weekend.
Either way, I had no idea what I might be dealing with, nor how long I’d need to be off work. And above all I was terrified that my diabetes would make a full recovery harder, or even impossible. Every time I tried to imagine being stuck like this forever, I wanted to cry. Selfish, I know – having worked with disabled children for five years in my teens and early twenties, I know first-hand I have virtually nothing to complain about, and so much to be thankful for. But the shock of it all put me in a very sad, frightened place.
Mood: fear, worry, embarrassment, drained
Facial paralysis score: 6 out of 10 (eyelid doesn’t blink fully but I can close it; can only slightly screw up the right side of my face; eyebrow and smile lifts about halfway)
Frozen: A Bell's Palsy Diary 