This episode of The Nocturnists is sponsored by the Bucksbaum-Seagler Institute for Clinical Excellence at the University of Chicago.

The Institute is dedicated to fostering compassionate doctor-patient relationships and advancing clinical care.

Each year, the Bucksbaum-Siegler Institute recognizes extraordinary healthcare professionals through the National Clinical Excellence Award.

To learn more about the award and to nominate a deserving clinician,

visit buxbaum institute.u-chicago.edu.

Support for the nocturnist comes from the California Medical Association.

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Details may have been changed to ensure patient confidentiality.

All views expressed are those of the person speaking and not their employer.

You're listening to The Nocturnous Conversations.

I'm Emily Silverman.

When I was in college, I went with some friends to see a play called Melancholy Play.

And it was about a bank teller named Tilly, whose melancholy mood was strangely magnetic to all the people around her. Her tailor, her psychiatrist, her hairdresser, all of them fell in love with Tilly because of her melancholy.

Then one day, Tilly inexplicably becomes happy and all of her admirers are left confused and despondent, one of them even serially transforming

into an almond. It's a whimsical play, it's a beautiful play, it's an evocative play, and it has

stayed with me for a long, long time. The playwright, Sarah Ruhle, eventually went on to pen numerous other theatrical masterpieces,

becoming a legend in the theater world and eventually earning a MacArthur Genius Award.

But something else of significance happened to Sarah.

Over a decade ago, shortly after giving birth to her twins, half of her face fell down.

She was diagnosed with Bell's palsy

and suddenly embarked on a long and difficult journey

to understand why this had happened to her

...