smile

Be the reason

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Let my soul smile

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Let my soul smile through my heart and my heart smile through my eyes that I might scatter rich smiles in sad hearts.

Paramahandsa Yogananda

The New Brian

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It was then that the weight of depression lifted from my shoulders. I found my self-confidence and strength-of-will once more knowing I have the capacity within me to take on whatever may come my way. Hugh told me after I had come out of my depression that he never thought I was depressed.

“What was I then?” I asked Hugh. I’d been struggling against something for the past ten years – this monkey on my back or whatever it was.

He looked at me and said, “I saw someone dejected and demoralized.”

I had searched for a decade trying to find what I could never have found. I was increasingly frustrated by my fruitless trek and my body’s failings that thwarted my efforts to make a life for myself. I became more dispirited and disheartened as time went by. All this I saw as depression and the resulting insecurity as anxiety.

But never again!

I am now Brian in my own right. I live life as my own person. I am able to meet whatever life has in store.

As the veil of my depression started to lift I found the inspiration to follow my dream to do Voice Over (VO). I had wanted to give voice to animated characters since I was a teenager for two reasons. First, it would be a really cool thing to do. Second, because of my facial paralysis I couldn’t make facial expressions such as frown, raise my eyebrows or give a big, wide smile – but the characters I gave voice to could.

Just as for teaching, giving a workshop and working in a medical lab, there were people who told me, “Brian, you can’t do Voice Over.” Some people told me this out of genuine concern that I was destined for certain failure and didn’t want to see me get hurt. I appreciated their concern but as I listened in my mind I said, “Oh please save it.” Then there were people who told me I couldn’t do VO just for their own satisfaction of telling me so. For these people my sentiment was, “Take a hike!” My reply to everyone was, “I’m working on it.”

In April of 2010 I joined Voices.com, a Voice Over marketplace, and started receiving their emails, newsletters and job notices. That September I went to the Voices of Vision event in Toronto where I got a good feeling for the VO industry that I couldn’t find in Thunder Bay. At Voices of Vision I met Pat who gave the first workshop. He emailed me two weeks later inviting me down to a Voice Over event in October at his studio in West Hollywood. “Awesome, I can’t pass this up.” I did something that was totally out of character for me. I jumped on a plane for LA with no idea how I was going to pay for it. I was nervous. At Pat’s VO event I got two turns to stand in a recording booth in front of a microphone and read a script. I know I can trust Pat’s word when he said I was fine. When I came back to Thunder Bay from Pat’s VO event I felt I needed to strengthen my vocal skills. I saw Mona, a speech pathologist, monthly for a year and a half. She had done some VO herself so she knew what I wanted to do with my voice. Mona was very creative and helpful. We improved my voice as best we could given my impediments. I gained more confidence in speaking. Then I took voice lessons over Skype for a year from a woman named Sunday, a voice coach in Toronto. With her guidance I focused on how I can best employ my vocal skills.

When I decided to do VO I joined Toastmasters. I wanted to improve my public speaking and interpretive reading skills. I belong to two Toastmasters clubs in Thunder Bay, compete in speech competitions and have earned my Advanced Communicator – Bronze and Competent Leader standings. Toastmasters taught me a lot about the craft of speaking. My confidence in public speaking and reading aloud has grown tremendously. Best of all I enjoy it.

Like Mom and Dad I was an active member of Corpus Christi. When I moved into my condo I involved myself in all the church functions at St. Agnes to forge an identity of my own. After four years I became discontented with the church services and the whole church scene. I couldn’t put my finger on why but it all started to feel hollow. I could experience the building and the people but no spiritual connection. I realized I was trying to live my mother’s relationship with Catholicism. I had to find my own spirituality. I stopped going to church and I didn’t miss it.

I lived in spiritual limbo. No longer did I have a spiritual basis in church and I didn’t know where else to look. Counselling for my depression revealed the wholeness within me. My ascent from the depths of depression began when I discovered that the light of my spirit and strength shines outward from my heart and soul.

Since then my spirituality grew beyond any one set of beliefs. No longer could I adhere to the teachings and edicts of some external church telling me what my beliefs were. I found spirituality to be much more. Now my spirituality comes from a variety of sources and always shines out from within me. I will never knock organized religion. It is a source of spirit and strength for many people as it once was for me.

 

I met my health challenges of facial paralysis, speech impediment, poor balance, hearing loss, obesity and depression. I surrounded myself with people who could help me with my disabilities and forge ahead with life. When I saw how technology could help me I embraced it. I now know the joy of expanding my creative mind: Interior Design, Architectural Technology, Copywriting, Artist, Writer, Voice Actor, Toastmaster and … There are many more things I want to learn and do. These are my dreams. Anyone who looks with an open mind at all the things out there to do will find the opportunities are endless. I’ve gained confidence travelling by myself to reintroduce “Brian” to my family and preserve the family history. Moving in with Catharine and her children enhanced my family life tremendously. I have found fulfillment in writing and speaking. My new spirituality has given me a sense of inner peace and joy. Despite all I that have been through I am living my dreams.

Dad aptly chose The Old Man and the Sea to read to me in the ICU after my neurosurgery at Sick Kids in 1972. He chose the story of a man who kept his courage in the face of defeat who won a personal triumph from loss that, for me, proved to be prophetic. It would be the story of my life.

In my world there are no final frontiers. There are only new frontiers to be discovered and explored. My life is my continuing mission. What else is in store for me? What new adventure awaits? Whatever it is I will face it with a smile!

 

 

A warm smile

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Koala

A warm smile is the universal language of kindness.

William Arthur Ward

A warm smile

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A warm smile is the universal language of kindness. - William Arthur Ward

My Smile!

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During the time of Dad’s struggle with cancer Mom found an article in the newspaper about a new surgery for people with facial paralysis called Smile-Surgery. It was pioneered by two plastic surgeons in Toronto. I saw the surgeons in March, 1977, to find that I was a good candidate for this procedure. After the surgery I would be able to move the corners of my mouth outward and up to smile.

Smile-Surgery: One end of the gracilis muscle is attached to the chin and the other end to the cheek. The blood supply and nerve are connected to the jaw muscle. After 12 weeks the surgery heals enough for the “smile muscle” to start working. It contracts when the jaw muscle is tensed causing the corner of the mouth to move outward and up to smile.

“Is this the answer?” I wondered, “Would I finally have what I had dreamt of for so long?  Would I get my smile back?” I was afraid to hope. I didn’t want to be disappointed again and yet my intuition told me to have the surgery. I thought about it for months.

In October of 1997, I had Smile-Surgery on the right side of my face at the Toronto Western Hospital while Dad and Jeanne ran Tara.

The Smile-Surgery involved taking some gracilis muscle from my inner thigh and transplanting it into my face (right thigh for the right side of the face and left thigh for the left side).

The lack of a smile wasn’t my only problem. Since I didn’t have cheek muscles to support my lower eyelids they sagged. During this Smile-Surgery the surgeons made a sling for each lower eye lid from a tendon out of my left wrist to hold them up.

When I woke up after surgery the incision on my face went from my right temple, down past my ear, around the corner of my jaw and along it to my chin. I had an incision along the inside of my right thigh from my knee to my groin with drains sticking out. I had swollen, bloodshot eyes I couldn’t focus. They had taken a tendon out of my left wrist and there was an IV in my right hand. I was sore all over and all I could do was lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. Man was I ever feeling sorry for myself.

“Brian,” I said, “what on Earth were you thinking? You didn’t have to do this.” Wah wah wah.

Two days later I wasn’t as sore. I could focus my eyes again and I was glad it was over. Four days after surgery the drains came out and I could get up. Three more days in Toronto and I was back in Thunder Bay.

It took two weeks for the swelling in my face to go down. The surgeons gave me step-by-step instructions on how to strengthen my new muscle. I stood in front my bedroom mirror daily to practice twitching it by tensing my jaw muscles. There was no movement at all at first. The right side of my face looked to be more alive but, try as I might, the corner of my mouth wouldn’t budge. I was disheartened but I reminded myself that the surgeons had told me that the muscle needed time to heal before it would work. Of course I wanted the smile muscle to work right away. I kept practicing. Twelve weeks after surgery I was sure I could feel a tug in the corner of my mouth. It was also time for Smile-Surgery on the left side. In early January, 1998, I was back at Toronto Western Hospital.

Now I practiced twitching both corners of my mouth. To the surgeons practicing twitching the smile muscles every day was very serious business. I was like a kid with a new toy. Each day I stood in front of my bedroom mirror to practice twitching my smile muscles. At first I watched the corners of my mouth move slightly. The twitches got broader as the smile muscles became stronger. The joy in my heart grew and grew as I witnessed my motionless, expressionless face come to life. For the first time in 25 years I had movement in my face. I had my smile! It wasn’t the big, wide smile I would have liked but it was bigger than Mona Lisa’s.

“Why not have some fun with this too?” I thought. I discovered that, along with regaining my smile, I could make sounds again that I hadn’t made since I was a kid such as blow raspberries. Awesome!

The surgeons brought each smile muscle around under my lower lip as well. To have working muscles support my lower lip again proved to be a permanent solution to the problem of it curling down.

Someday I’ll Get My Smile Back

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In the mid 1970s biofeedback captured the public’s interest and became my hope to overcome my facial paralysis. I dreamt of making facial expressions again and most of all to be able to smile. A doctor in Los Angeles was well known for his expertise with this technique. In late May of 1975, Mom, Dad, Catharine and I were en route to California. We stayed at a hacienda-style hotel called Griswold’s in Claremont, a suburb of LA, where the doctor had his practice. It was a two storey building and the elevator was outside. The vending machine beside the elevator sold Canada Dry soft drinks. I had never seen a vending machine selling Canada Dry soft drinks in Canada.

 

Biofeedback: A training technique whereby an electromyograph is used to measure electrical impulses produced by muscle movement. The impulses are displayed on a screen to the person being monitored in order to assist that individual to improve muscle function.

 

At his office the California doctor stuck three electrode needles in each side of my face. Each needle hurt like sticking an IV needle in my hand. My face felt like a pin cushion. The electrodes were wired to an electromyograph to measure the electrical impulses produced by muscle movement in my face. My facial muscles were paralyzed so they didn’t produce electrical impulses. Since they didn’t produce electrical impulses biofeedback wouldn’t work for me. After watching the screen while adjusting the electrodes the doctor decided he couldn’t do anything for me. I was disappointed. I had imagined myself with a big smile again and placed all my hope in this doctor being able to help me.

Despite the disappointment we spent some tourist time there. We visited Disneyland for a day and toured Universal Studios the next. It was really cool to see how Hollywood shot movie scenes and made things appear a certain way for the camera. There were no sides on the tour bus. Every now and then a man dressed as Frankenstein suddenly poked his head into the bus to give us a scare. He got a lot of gasps followed by laughs and I laughed with them. That evening we drove around Rodeo Drive to find the homes of the movie stars. Next day was the long flight home.

I turned 16 in June of 1975. Like most 16-year-olds I wanted to get my driver’s licence and I vowed to get it before I turned 17. I passed the application for my learner’s permit. Now I could practice driving with a licensed driver with me, usually Mom or Dad, and take driving lessons. I took lessons with two driving schools and got a lot of practice driving my parents around town. When the instructor thought I was ready we booked a driving test. After a third test I got my licence in May of 1976 one week before I turned 17.

Mom was waiting for me when I got back with the good news. She gave me a big hug and disappeared for a moment while I sat down relieved at the kitchen table. She came back with a set of car keys that had been waiting for me since my first test. I proudly put them on my key ring.

Driving afforded me the ability to expand my world. I could go places, see friends, meet new people and run errands. Most importantly I experienced different situations that the limited mobility I had in those years after my recovery would not have allowed. This was especially poignant to me because I well remembered what losing my independence to my failing health was like while I was in a wheelchair.

My health issues continued. Another consequence of my facial paralysis was that my lower lip tissue stretched so that it curled out and down because of the lack of muscle support. By July of 1975, I was getting leather lip where the lip skin grows back into the mouth. I saw a plastic surgeon who proposed a simple procedure done under a local anesthetic. He would cut a wedge out along the inside of my lower lip which would raise it up when the two sides of the gap were sown together. This seemed like a good solution. The only drawback was that since my lip tissue would keep stretching and curling down I had to have this surgery every four to five years.

The following October I was back in Toronto at the Wellesley Hospital for the surgery. I was brought into a small OR while still in my street clothes. I got up and laid flat on the operating table and they covered me with a green sterile sheet. The surgeon marked out on my lip where he had to cut. Then came the needle. Starting on my right he poked my lip and injected the freezing. EXCRUTIATING! I gasped each time he injected the freezing as I laid there as rigid as a board trying my best to endure the pain. It took five pokes to freeze my lip all the way across. Next he picked up a scalpel in his right hand and forceps in his left. He started to cut out the wedge pinching the end of it with the forceps. As he cut along the lines I could see an ever increasing length of tissue that was once part of my lip. Blood trickled down my throat. After he cut the wedge out he proceeded to stitch me up. The freezing was wearing off as he was finishing just as he said it would. I felt the last few stitches going in. It took half an hour from start to finish. I walked out of the hospital accompanied by Mom with a swollen, bloody, stitched–up lip. My lip healed during the next two weeks.

Over 22 years I had this procedure four times – two at the Wellesley Hospital in Toronto and two at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Thunder Bay. I still wonder if cutting with the scalpel would have hurt less than injecting the freezing.

I never gave up on the hope of regaining the ability to smile. So in 1977 I was excited to discover a doctor at the Cleveland Clinic in Ohio had developed a new surgical technique to help people with facial paralysis. It involved rerouting a sensory nerve from the front of the neck and attaching it to the obicularis oris muscle surrounding the mouth. If it worked I would be able to move my lips again. But there was a trade off. I would lose the feeling in an area of my throat in exchange for regaining the use of my lips. It was a trade off I was willing to make.

Mom, Dad and I flew to Cleveland to see the doctor. He said he could do the procedure the next day. If I wanted to go ahead with it he had to know soon so he could book the OR. I had an hour to decide. At 17 this was the first time the decision to have surgery or not was mine. It was a huge decision to make on the spot. As I thought about it I said to myself, “Why am I here? He can do it tomorrow so let’s go for it.” My answer was an enthusiastic, “Yes.” I had to get pre-op bloodwork, have an ECG and be at the clinic for 6:00 the next morning.

To get the obicularis oris muscle to function fully the doctor would have to take a nerve from the right side of my throat and try to attach it to the right side of the obicularis oris muscle. Then he would do the same with the left. He would do both sides if the right was successful. When I woke up after surgery only the right side of my throat was bandaged. The surgery was unsuccessful. Since the muscles in my face had lost their nerve supply five years before they had wasted away. The doctor could not find any trace of the obicularis oris muscle to attach the nerve to so he put it back in my throat. It took six months for the feeling to come back.

It was the second try to regain at least some movement in my face. Again I was disappointed. Biofeedback couldn’t help me and the surgery in Cleveland was unsuccessful. My quest to find someone who could give me facial movement was like Dorothy searching for the Wizard of Oz. But I didn’t want a heart of courage – just a smile.

“Someday I’ll get my smile back.” I was confidence that another surgical technique would be developed.

That fall Aunt Josie, Mom’s sister, and Uncle Jimmy came to visit us from London, England. I was apprehensive. My appearance had changed so much since I saw them seven years earlier when Mom took me overseas to visit the relatives when I was ten. I didn’t want them to see me until my facial muscles had regenerated and I was back to looking the way I was then. When we met I was no different to them. Their acceptance encouraged me to come to terms with the changes in my body. I had adapted to my balance and co-ordination issues but I hadn’t fully accepted my facial paralysis. I still clung to the hope that somehow the cranial nerve would regenerate and I would get the movement in my face back. The cold, hard fact was the nerve would never regenerate. My Aunt and Uncle’s acceptance of me, despite the changes in my body, helped me accept who I had become.

“I’ll have facial paralysis for the rest of my life!”

The thought fell on me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t grasp a sense of how long that was, but I accepted that facial paralysis would always be part of me.