Throughout our life we acquire scars. Some scars are bad, and some scars are good, but as with everything else in life…. It is what we do with them that matters.
They are flaws that add character. Things that make us who we are. They show that we have lived, or that we have survived.
They remind us to be cautious, or remind us to take risks. The are examples of what we’ve done, and examples of what we should not have done.
They are memories of where we’ve been, and motivation for where we want to go. They are our life’s teachers, mentors, lessons, dreams, and hopes.
Our scars shape us, they encourage us, and the define us.
Here are a few of my scars that define me.
This scar on my right ankle is from when I was an infant. Back then, that scar was the entire span of the inside of my ankle. There is a story somewhere here in my other posts about that particular incident. If I was more technologically adept I’d put a link to it right here, but since I am not that skilled…. consider it a treasure hunt.
This scar is on my right wrist. I had problems with my wrist/hand/arm for about 5 years and saw all too many doctors that said there was nothing wrong over those 5 years I had carpal tunnel like symptoms, but did not have carpal tunnel since I lost complete use of my hand/grip after performing menial tasks. One doctor finally did surgery on my wrist. Turns out, there was a cyst in my wrist that was leaking fluid, filling up the entire area of my wrist, which in turn constricted everything in that area. Absolute worst surgical recovery I have ever had. It was an extraordinarily painful recovery, but it was one of the best simply due to the fact that I could once again use my right arm/hand.
Yep, that is my neck. This scar is my ‘victim of a violent crime’ scar. I had my throat slit from one side to the other. It will be one of my stories, and may even be a two parter, so keep an eye out down the road. The scar itself is a bit hard to see on the picture if you don’ know what you’re looking at.
Looking at the picture, it is wide/jagged on the right side and turns to thin and raised from the middle and over to the left side. It goes at an angle across my throat. From the lower natural crease on one side (right in the picture), to the higher natural crease on the other side (left in the picture). When I am emotional, stressed/angry/upset, it stands out more. When you get really frustrated, your skin changes color a bit. Scar tissue does not.
The scar itself isn’t so bad. Took quite awhile to heal, and I treated it well with vitamin E oil and the like. It also was a very huge help that the trauma doc on call that night just happened to be a plastic surgeon.
I am not my scars, but my scars make me. They don’t hinder me, they complete me. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am today.