When Amelia Tearle woke to discover one side of her face paralysed, it was the start of a traumatic experience which, she tells Ruth Campbell, has ultimately made her happier

THE first sign something might be amiss was when Amelia Tearle woke one morning, reached for a drink of water from a plastic bottle and spilt it down her front.

The outgoing and sporty Cambridge University student could not understand how she had been so clumsy. She had no idea she had been struck by a devastating condition which was to have a huge impact on her life.

At home in Ripon, North Yorkshire, for the Christmas holidays, moments after she spilled the water, it dawned on Amelia that she was unable to move her face. She called out for help to her mother, Louise, who was shocked to discover that half of her daughter’s face was drooping.

“I knew from her reaction it was serious. She thought I had had a stroke. It was really frightening,”

says Amelia.

She was, in fact, suffering from Bell’s palsy, a rare condition affecting one in 5,000 people a year, which causes a usually temporary weakness or paralysis of the muscles on one side of the face.

Although the exact cause is unknown, it is thought it can be triggered when a facial nerve becomes inflamed due to a viral infection and a complete recovery can take between three to six months.

While the condition is not painful or life-threatening and three quarters of those affected make a complete recovery, the psychological effects can be traumatic.

For Amelia, 21, whose face returned almost to normal after six months, it was an extremely distressing and debilitating ordeal. But it was also, ultimately, a surprisingly enlightening and even lifeenhancing experience.

The attractive blonde, who played for her university football team and enjoyed a lively social life, initially lost her confidence in public. The left side of her face was totally paralysed, so she was unable to drink without a straw or blink without closing her eye with her hand. She talked with a lisp and was unable to sniff when she had a cold: “Worst of all, I was unable to smile,” she says.

Steroids eased some of the symptoms, but other than offering her eye drops and an eye patch, there was little the medical profession could do for her.

Amelia felt devastated every time she caught her reflection in a shop window: “I don’t think it is too extreme to describe it as a deformity. I felt ugly,” she says. When she went out in public, people would stare. She felt friends, although well-meaning, did not really understand what she was going through.

The psychological trauma became, at times, overwhelming: “I was uncomfortable with the way people perceived me and uncomfortable with my own identity,” says Amelia.

One of the worst aspects of having Bell’s palsy was, she says, not knowing if she would be one of those who would return to normal, or one of the three in ten who must live with the disfigurement for life. “As weeks and months passed with little improvement, I lost faith in my own body and in my ability to relate to others,” she says.

At one point, she was consumed with self-pity, yet felt guilty for complaining while others were much worse off. It was while attempting to drag herself out of this rut that she started to think about the wider significance of her situation.

“Was it wrong of me to consider my situation catastrophic when others face serious illness with such dignity?” she says. “And had I not learnt from the greatest Paralympics in history that physical disfigurement is no bar to happiness or success?”

She was particularly inspired by TV presenter and former model Katie Piper, whose face was scarred in an acid attack: “She is so remarkable and such a potent symbol, not because she has undergone trauma and not because her face has changed but because she has been able to successfully project her identity through her new face.”

Her mother Louise, a further education manager, father Jonathan, a headteacher and younger sister Elizabeth, 19, were a huge support: “With the help of my family, I started to come to terms with my face even before it began to recover. Elizabeth, who I’m extremely close to, particularly appreciated what it was like for someone my age.”

The Northern Echo:
Amelia was unable to smile

HISTORY graduate Amelia, now doing a management studies course in Cambridge and considering a career in the police force, started to explore issues surrounding self-image: “I came to understand more about identity and coming to terms more fully with my new identity.”

While, initially, she felt there was not enough information available, Amelia has since discovered a newly-formed charity for people in similar situations.

“Facial Palsy UK is very useful. Because it is such a rare condition, you can feel isolated and it is important to have people to talk to.”

She found writing about her experience for a student blog magazine helped, as did other hobbies and interests. “I play quite a lot of football for the university team and that was one of the few times when I largely forgot about my face. Studying history has the same effect, as it’s easy to lose yourself in what you’re reading or writing about.”

Amelia still suffers from a few minor facial quirks, but her face has largely returned to normal.

“The lessons I have learnt will remain with me for a long time,” she says. “The most potent message I am left with is that the key to being comfortable with our appearance, even if it changes dramatically and unexpectedly, is to reconcile our own identity with the one we project to the world.

“It has certainly made me more understanding about the way in which I relate to other people.

“I still have a weird mouth movement when I close my eye and one eye goes lop-sided when I’m tired or have had a drink. I looked better before, but the experience has given me a new confidence in my own identity and appearance. I am definitely happier.