It's Fun Monday... all day! Sorry I'm so late with my post. Was having computer issues, which seem to be resolved now.
Jill is our host this week and she's getting personal:
I challenge you to show us your scars. Scars can be physical or emotional, they can be a reminder of something good or a warning against repeating past actions. They are often (like most experiences) great teachers. If it’s a physical scar, tell us how you got it, if you learned anything from the experience, and what you think of when you see it. If it’s an emotional scar, how did you come by it and what has it taught you? Faye at Summit Musings is the hostess for August 24, 2009! Please check with her for next week’s assignment!
I have, in the past, revealed a few emotional scars here... but I don't think I've ever talked about my physical ones. I have quite a few.
My first scar marred my baby skin at age 4 months when my stomach telescoped in on itself. Life-saving surgery to straighten it out (and remove my appendix "because we were in there") left me with my most impressive scar. It grew with me and is now about 6 inches long. I never think about it except when it surprises someone who sees it for the first time.
My childhood left me with many scars. Most have faded. The one I got when my arm fell between the ends of the top rail of the bleachers in middle school is mostly gone. It is a ghost on my upper arm. Various mosquito-bite scars pepper my legs from my youth. There is the indentation on my left index finger from washing a cold glass in hot water - the glass shattered and cut me almost to the bone. While others freaked out, I calmly sat down at the table, holding my finger together and keeping it above my heart to reduce the bleeding. By the time we got to the doctor, my skin was knitting back together on its own - he wrapped it in gauze and we left it at that.
My favorite scar is the big, belly smile I got from the c-section that safely delivered my son to my arms 10 years ago. An infection didn't help the healing, and it will probably ensure that I have a permanent pooch in my lower abdomen, but I am quite proud of that scar.
My arms are covered with tiny scars. They are also scars of love. When my old dog Beryl got so very old, she became flea-infested. Nothing we did seemed to help. Daily baths. Combing. Medication. The fleas were there to stay. I did not let that stop me from holding her when she needed it or letting her be in the house. I developed a severe flea allergy, which morphed into any biting insect causing tiny volcanoes whenever they landed. Living in Florida, there really is no way to avoid it. I wear sleeves around strangers because it kind of freaks them out.
And now I have reached that age when the doctor keeps seeing little things he wants to do shave biopsies on. The last one was on the side of my nose. The doctor offered to send me to a plastic surgeon, but I said no. What is one more scar on this rather battered old body? It's not bad. Just a tiny divot - like a piercing removed.
This seems like quite a list, but there are many more - mostly minor and hardly worth mentioning. I don't even remember how they came to be. But the above? Each notable in its own way!