I believe in scars. On August 15, 2007, I survived the most trying experience of my life. I had a life threatening infection, which required emergency abdominal surgery. I had never had surgery, and had only been admitted to a hospital twice, to birth my two children. After a week’s stay in the hospital, I came home to begin my recovery to health. I became increasingly obsessed with my vertical surgical cut…that I would begin to call a scar. I looked at it every day, wondering if it was healing properly, wondering if it was infected, but more so, becoming more and more amazed by what it really represented.
A scar is a product of a wound; all wounds leave some type of a scar. Scars can be external and internal. A scar can be caused by intentional and accidental wounds. My scar became proof of the pain I endured during my recovery process. Yet, even more than proof of the pain, it became so much more to me. The scar represented to me the possibilities that exist in our world; how amazingly our broken bodies can begin to repair themselves, the wonders of medical science, and the old adage, that time heals all wounds.
The scar also allowed me to understand more fully, that life is so precious, our time on this earth is finite, and that every moment we are given, is a moment to be cherished and relished and enjoyed, despite our circumstances. The greatest virtue the scar taught me is patience. That too heal, I knew I had to wait, to persevere and to be strong.
I believe in scars, because the things I learned from my scar, prepared me for my worst fear…a second abdominal surgery was required in October, 2008. The scar was cut again, and I am home now, recovering again.
However, this time, I don’t obsess over my scar. This time, I am thankful for it, because I know it means I am healing, and I know that I can wait.
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