Lamp stole my smile!
The accident caused paralysis in Erica's face
Tuesday 10th June 2008
It was the horror of all horrors. I did a double-take in my bedroom mirror, and felt my stomach lurch.
'Oh my!' I gasped, leaning closer to the mirror, pulling my hair back to have a look. There was no mistaking it. The whole left side of my face was drooping downwards.
I'd woken up with creases on my face before, but this was something else. I prodded it, and it felt numb. Perhaps a shower will wake it up a bit, I thought. It was 9am, and I was due to meet my mate, Ann Cox, then 19, at Wetherspoons for lunch at noon. As soon as I got out of the shower, I had another look at my face. After slapping on a bit of make-up, and leaving my hair hanging over it, it didn't look too bad.
But that didn't stop me feeling self-conscious when I met Ann.
'Sorry about my face,' I joked, as we ordered our food. 'I had a few Bacardi Breezers last night. Some food will sort me out.'
'Good, I'm starving,' she smiled.
A few minutes later, we were tucking into our club sandwiches. I'd just had a sip of Coke, when I realised my top was wet. I looked down. Lumps of chewed up food lay in my lap and Coke was dribbled down my front. It was everything I'd put in my mouth.
'What's wrong with me…?' I began.
But I stopped. What was wrong with my voice? It sounded slurry.
'Let's get you to hospital,' Ann said, looking worried.
We started walking to St Richards Hospital, in Chichester, which was about 10 minutes away. Ann tried to keep my spirits up, but I was scared. I thought back to the accident I'd had six weeks earlier...
I'd been on a night out in The Slurping Toad in Chichester, with my mates, Natalie Bailey, 23, and Tracy Wilson, 22.I'd been at the bar. Next thing
I knew, something heavy crashed down on the back of my head, and broken glass lay all around my feet. I'd felt dizzy. My head was bleeding.
'W-what happened?' I'd stammered in shock.
'The lamp shade just dropped from the ceiling onto your head,' Tracy had explained.
I'd been rushed to St Richard's Hospital, where doctors had removed shards of glass from my head, and sent me home with painkillers.
I'd been off from work as a chef at an army barracks for a week with
a pounding headache. It had ached on-and-off ever since, but now this.
We got to hospital, where a doctor examined me.
'You have Bell's palsy,' she explained.
'A form of facial paralysis.'
Paralysis?
I tried not to cry as I told her about the accident.
'Could it have been caused by that?' I asked.
'It's possible,' she agreed.
By now, my mum, Sheila, and dad, Tony, both 51, had arrived.
'The paralysis could be permanent,' she warned us.
Permanent? My blood ran cold as she told me I'd have to tape my eye down at night, and drink through a straw. Growing up, I was nicknamed 'Smiler', for my constant grin. No one would call me that now. That night, I caught a glimpse of my droopy face in the mirror, and burst into tears.
'My life's over, Mum,' I sobbed.
'It doesn't look that bad, love,' she reassured me. But soon, Smiler was well and truly gone. After two weeks, I went back to work, but couldn't bear to go out with friends. And I wouldn't go out at all without sunglasses and a scarf.
Every day, I hoped I'd wake up and see some signs of improvement, but my face stayed firmly stuck. I was at the end of my tether when, six months after I'd been hit by the lamp shade, I was referred to Lorraine Clapham, a physio
at Wessex Neurological Centre.
Lorraine showed me some facial exercises, and suggested I use something called a TENS (Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulator) machine on my face.
'The machine gives out small electrical pulses, which should stimulate the nerves,' she explained.
I attached the machine's electro-pads to my face, morning and night.
Within a month, I could just about shut my eye.
'Great progress,' beamed Lorraine at my next appointment.
It was a hard slog, but in July 2002, the pub admitted liability, and in February 2004, paid me £1,000 compensation for the accident. By then, I'd regained
85 per cent of the muscle movement in my face.
Better still, in January 2005, I got back together with an ex-boyfriend, Darren Burges, 28, and in March last year, we were on holiday in Venice, when he proposed. I'm already making wedding plans, and I feel happier than ever.
I can still only move 85 per cent of my face, but finally, I really am smiling again. Inside and out!