Day 4 in the plague house, and that face isn't getting any easier to love...
Even her clothes are coming out in spots. The choice of that top was what you might call a rash decision. We thought it might distract the eye from her skin. In reality she just looks like she's naked.
Anyhoo, the sores, like her parents, are weeping most of the time, but Amelie's still remarkably cheerful. Unless, of course, you take her to a curtain shop. With Lisa continuing to feel rough, I decided to risk taking Amelie's disease into the community this morning, by walking her into town to buy some bedroom curtains. Obviously I didn't want to draw attention to her hideous face, so when she refused to wear a bag over her head, I decided instead to take the backstreets to Western Road, in the hope that no one would notice her.
It worked. Right up until the moment she threw a major tantrum in Linens Direct because I wouldn't let her run down the aisle wearing a curtain sample. She ended up screaming at the top of her voice in the middle of the shop, while the store manager stood three feet away, shaking her head and tutting. For a professional blind woman, she did an awful lot of staring. As did the other customers. Frankly it's a miracle no one called social services. Or offered us some Clearasil.
But amongst the tears and anguish (and that's just me), there has been the occasional touching moment. And I don't just mean when she scratches her sores. Amelie caught sight of herself in the bedroom mirror this morning, and having taken in her appearance, she immediately said "Face dirty!" and tried to wipe off her spots. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I'd have wept buckets, but Lisa was throwing up into it at the time.