Fifth day out: As autumn leaves turn to gold, the red on my lids is fading to yellow, nicely contrasting with the blue-colored stitches, which, until yesterday, I thought were black.
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As I check myself out in the bathroom mirror for the umpteenth time today, I remember that old saying--a watched eyelid never heals.
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I cannot help but wonder if eyelid surgery is a gateway drug--in the distance I hear the siren song of a browlift.
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