Tejal was 32 weeks pregnant with her first baby when she woke up and realised something wasn’t quite right.
Just a few days before her baby shower, Tejal was brushing her teeth and realised that the toothpaste was falling out of her mouth and the movements in her eye were starting to slow down.
With her husband asleep in bed, she drove herself to the nearest walk-in centre and after an hour of waiting and being tested for stroke symptoms, she was blue-lighted to hospital for further review. Here she was surrounded by a huge team of doctors only to be told: “It’s not a stroke, probably Bell’s Palsy, you can go home.” Ten minutes later, she was in a taxi heading back to the walk-in centre to get her car and carry on life as normal.
Despite the lack of concern from the medical staff and no apparent need for follow-up, Tejal and her husband weren’t convinced. A childhood friend had experienced Bell’s Palsy and recovered within a month or so, so although they assumed this was temporary, they still didn’t have a conclusion.
They spent the next few days on Google, researching Tejal’s symptoms and trying to find out what was going on. Self-diagnosed with Bell’s Palsy in pregnancy, Tejal made an appointment with her GP who, after also doing a quick web search themselves, prescribed steroids and antivirals. With a lot of caution and concern regarding the impact of steroids on her unborn baby, Tejal took the prescription and was sent on her way. She never received a formal diagnosis.
Previously, an outgoing, sociable, photo-loving individual, the next few weeks were difficult. At her baby shower, Tejal kept her sunglasses on, guests were pre-warned not to ask questions, and photos were avoided. The photos from her babymoon don’t depict the happiness of a pre-baby holiday either, but sadness because of what was going on.
Well-intentioned family and friends made comments such as “just be thankful the baby’s healthy” and “you’ll be fine, we can barely tell”, and although she was of course grateful for her baby’s health, Tejal couldn’t express how she was feeling or the pain she was in.
And then came the time for her baby to be born.
Tejal’s daughter was born at 36 weeks, and she was told the early delivery was likely due to her steroid use. A traumatic C-section delivery, resulting in a 10-day hospital stay during COVID, plus the presence of a mirror in her cubicle and repeated questioning from medical staff regarding her face, meant that those first few weeks were really difficult. Tejal reports feeling somewhat better that facemasks were essential in baby classes, because, paired with some sunglasses, she could hide her face.
She made no new mum friends and barely took any photos in the early days unless they had filters on or she was actively holding the side of her face to make it look symmetrical.
Despite reading that symptoms tend to resolve after a few weeks, Tejal reached six months and had no movement at all in the left side of her face. She was continuing to need to tape her eye closed or physically shut it to blink and so sought out more support.
Following a consultation with a neurologist and an MRI to rule out tumours, plastic surgery felt extreme. After a second pregnancy, during which Tejal was concerned that the symptoms of her facial palsy would worsen, she decided to investigate botulinum toxin treatment. She took a very staggered approach, put it off many times, and when she finally had it, she didn’t notice a great deal of change initially. Now though, it has made a world of difference. Her children didn’t necessarily notice the change in her face, but they noticed the change in her personality, and her increased confidence: “I want to take pictures with them more.”
Tejal feels she never really owned her Bell’s Palsy and always felt the need to explain it. But after starting a new job, and with the support of her colleagues, Tejal is feeling more empowered to do things out of her comfort zone. She is now speaking at international conferences, appearing on podcasts, and has her face published on social media: it’s not without her own inner self-criticism, but she’s learning to accept it. Having previously felt that she needed to explain her facial palsy to new people she met, it’s becoming less of a conscious decision to do so now.
She still has tinnitus but this is improving; there’s still some pain and lost muscle volume, but she’s learnt to sleep in a way that ensures her eyes stay closed and she’s starting to come to terms with it. Tejal is speaking out about her experience, hoping that people can see this as an empowering experience, not a shame and something to hide.
Tejal’s advice for anyone who is experiencing facial palsy is this:
- Go to therapy if it’s for you. It was a safe space to vent and cry, and was really helpful.
- Lean on the people around you; they love you for you.
- And take all the pictures, not just the ones of your good side or you pulling a funny face to hide your differences.
Disclaimer: Please note that views expressed are person’s own and should not be considered a recommendation of particular medical treatments, therapies or surgeries. We would always advise you seek advice from a health professional with experience in facial palsy who can assess your individual needs.