I had a conversation recently that got my thought process into motion. It’s not even the first time this particular conversation has ever come up. I could even be a spokesperson or even a “poster woman” for this topic of discussion.
We can hear something over and over, and a certain word makes you see another side to it or places emphasis on what you already know. Well, that’s exactly what happened to me!
Most of us have scars from our childhood. It could be bicycle wrecks or jumping from the barn loft or climbing trees and either a limb breaks or you tumble to the ground. [No, I’m sorry, that’s the kind of childhood I had when we always played outdoors.]
The electronic years and central heat and air have resulted in fewer scars, I guess. After all, most kids don’t even know about outside activities. I personally am thankful for the type of upbringing I had. We were one with nature, you could say.
Anyway, there is another type of scar: Surgery scars. That happened to be the subject being discussed that has brought about today’s article.
We were talking about the hip replacement surgery that I’ll be having. Two years ago, I’d had the same surgery, but on a different hip. I told her it was a good thing I only had two hips.
Then she looked at me with a concerned look and simply said, “Gail, I’m such a vain person. I’m so vain! I have no scars, and I might need a hip replacement surgery myself, and I’m so concerned about the scar it would leave.”
I listened, and I could almost feel the sadness and ache of her heart. I had never thought of her being a vain person. Needless to say, I was shocked at her words.
I don’t personally think my scars have any advantages of helping me become Miss America, but I’ve never thought of being one anyway. Now my mother always told me that daddy would say I’d be Miss America someday, so that’s close enough for me.
I do have a different perspective on scars now than when I was younger, but I never was even close to being as sad as she was.
My breast cancer scar is my “survival scar.” Without it, I wouldn’t be writing this article or enjoying the gift of life. My port scar allowed me to be connected to an IV to receive the poison (chemo) that killed my cancer cells and prevented me from being pricked at every treatment. I also refer to that as a “survival scar.”
My hip replacement scar is the longest, deepest and ugliest, if you want to look at it that way. I prefer to call it my “freedom scar.” Because of it, I can walk normally and without pain.
As silly as it might sound, I am looking forward to my next hip replacement surgery. Do I like my surgical scars? No, I don’t! I do accept them, though, because they have improved my lifestyle and saved my life.
Hopefully my friend won’t need a hip replacement surgery. Better yet, I hope she can live her life with no surgeries at all. As for me, I’m blessed! God continues giving me one more day!
