New ones, fading ones, hurting ones, visibles ones. Somes thoughts on scars.
Since a year, that’s a daily topic for me. Taking care of some new scars, impressive ones, fresh ones, is something particular. But that’s not only skin to take care of, that’s also managing the mirror reflection, the looks of the others, the questions, & more importantly, the cause of those scars. I’ve always thought that they can make someone (even more) interesting. It’s a trace of time and life, and that makes me want to hear their stories. You learn so much from someone who opens about their pain, past or present.
As far as I can remember, I’ve always been a bit fascinated by scars, on me first, and later on others. I vividly remember some knee scars when I was young. The pain, the sting of disinfectant, the fresh air on the open wound. The discomfort of the first healing days, the body magic happening, the full healing and the disappearance of any trace of suffering after a while. These were the easy ones, the light ones. The scars that don’t last, on a young skin and body. The one that are only the result of living and learning.
I have some long lasting ones : right ankle, left knee, back and left arm. Some of them were stupid accidents, and some others were surgeries and hard moments to go through. They hold memories and short periods of life. (Yeah, memories and nostalgia is a big topic for me). They remind me a lot, so many feelings linked to each of them.
Right ankle : THAT is the definition of a stupid accident. I can’t exactly remember the year, roughly between 2007 and 2009, I think. Generali Open de France, the french national horseriding championship, in July, with friends. Crossing a small stream by walking on a metal barrier acting as a bridge. Obviously, I slipped on it, the back of my ankle on a sharp edge. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but the scar is still there, thin and almost invisible, unless you touch the skin. I love it. It reminds me of an airiness, of people that were good friends at that time, and of others that became, for a short period of time, a little bit more than that. It was summer, happiness, being free and enjoying each days and nights.
Back : a tiny round scar precisely in the middle of my back, centered on my spine. The first ever beauty spot (mole ? hate that word) that I had to get removed. I didn’t know at that time that it’ll only be the beginning, for other reasons tho. Nothing serious, it was just at risk of scraching it, so we decided to get it removed. I’ve always liked this scar, it’s a small one, and the skin is thin.
Left knee : that’s a good one, a hard one too. And that’s not really one, for 4 small scars around the knee. Context ? A bad fall while skiing in 2012, and a lovely ligaments rupture. That was almost 2 years of pain. First, the fall, hearing and feeling distinctly a snap in your body is not something I recommend. A check-up in the hospital, a splint and a recommendation to rest for a few weeks after, I was back home and ready to not respect that. I was starting an internship, and I went. After 3 months of physio sessions, the sentence was that I couldn’t avoid a surgery. So, surgery it goes.
It went well, but these 4 small scars will always remind me how the rehab was difficult, how I suffered to go through this, and how I worked my ass off to be able to walk without any pain, to run and ski again too. What was hard too was to feel diminished. The pain was sometimes complexe to manage, I was easily tired, I couldn’t sit still for a long time, I coudn’t walk a lot either. For almost a year after the surgery, I was in pain everyday, at some point. It took time, I still have a metal clip inside (and yes, i can sometimes predict the weather thanks to it), but now I’m good, since 10 years.
Left arm : the last ones, three of them. My body is covered by beauty spots, everywhere. I’ve always had regular check-ups, but last year we discovered that two of them may be melanomas. Two successive surgeries for the first beauty spot, an initial surgery for the second one, and alarming results. The first beauty spot had a melanoma, but so small that it was managed by the second surgery, local and non-invasive. That second one wasn’t that small. The propagation risk of cancer cells was way bigger, and the surgery was way more invasive. I needed a (fourth) surgery to retrieve even more skin around the beauty spot concerned, and to retrieve the sentinel lymph node under the armpit.
The surgery lasted around two hours, and I left with two impressive wounds. the first wound is on the back, below the shoulder, around fifteen centimeters. The second one in under the armpit, around eight centimeters. It took three months to heal. That was physically painful, and mentally hard. The scars are still fresh, and a year later, they are still reddish and so visible that it’s hard for me to imagine how I’ll dress in summer. Taking care of them is okay, everyday, but I’m really not comfortable with them now. They also remind me how alarming the situation was, even with frequent check-ups. I’m still seeing my dermatologist thrice a year, and having a brain MRI and full body scan twice a year, for the next five years minimum.
It’s like having a sword hanging over my head everytime I having one of these, and waiting for the results.
But what all of that says about me ? A lot, and nothing at all to be honest. It shows some pain and some past & current experiences, but it doesn’t show everything. A broken arm (also the left one), or a broken heart are not visible for the eye. Also, I’m sure we are the sum of our experiences, the sum of wins and losses, of friends and enemies, of love and grief ; but not only, and that may be another topic. The scars, they don’t define me but they are mine, the skin is just a canva of moments of our life.
I’ll do my best to cherish mine.