After my first surgery, I looked like–according to my poor traumatized daughter–I’d been beaten up. All I noticed was how open my eyes were. Sure, there was a lot of bruising, but for the first time in years my eyelids fit snugly against my face. I also had three small metal bumps across the top of my head. (It occurs to me that if you have a queasy stomach, you may want to skip this post.) The bumps were the heads of screws that were basically holding my forehead up. My gran