In the beginning of this blog, especially during the first two weeks, I thought this day would never come. Two months seemed like an eternity, and you might as well have asked me to wait for the next 10 years. I couldn't imagine what my face would look like without ten pounds of swollen cheeks, and the thought of leaving my house was daunting. Now, sixty days later, I can barely remember the pain and discomfort. Funny how the human memory works, isn't it?
If not for the meticulous records I've kept, I would hardly believe that I had surgery. Well, that and some of the stiffness I have left in my face. I'm now trying to keep up with the task of returning to normal life, like remembering to chew before I swallow. My adjustment period seems to be longer than most people's experience, which is probably compounded by the fact that I'm trying to adjust living in Seoul at the same time. I have to constantly remind myself that personal space doesn't exist here, and that someone shoving you on the subway isn't a direct attack on your person. The latter is difficult because I am ready to kill anyone who touches my new, expensive face.
I can pretty much eat most things now, minus really crunchy and tough foods. I've had salads, sandwiches, pastas. This weekend, I attempted to eat a burrito, but was waylaid by the spiciness (two months without spice has made me a weak kitten) and the exhaustion of chewing the tortilla. I should've gotten the quesadilla instead. But what I really want is an enchilada.
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