My scars tell a story

My scars tell a story.
They are a reminder of times
when life tried to break me,
but failed.
They are the markings of where the
structure of my character was welded.

Scars can be manifested in a number of ways. They can be a visual of life lived, falls taken, operations succeeded.

They can also be hidden, times when life gave you hard knocks, when you were emotionally torn, but you were able to stitch yourself back together, and to move forward with dignity and courage.

Both kinds of scars are a critical part of our character. They both can hurt so much, they can almost break you, but it is their repair, and what is left of them that makes us into the people we are now.

I have met a number of interesting people in this care center. One woman in particular really shook me up tonight. She called me over when she was eating alone in the dining room. (You can eat in the dining room, or eat in your room, and MOST people eat in their rooms with the TV on.) I eat in my room, just for the quiet, and do not have the TV on. I just happened to be passing through the dining room on one of my many walks down the halls, to try to kick my healing process into high gear.

This woman stopped me and asked me what I was "here for". I told her that I had a knee replaced, and she said, and you are WALKING? I asked her what she was here for, and she told me she was also in for a knee replacement. I asked her how long it had been since her surgery, and she told me that it had been "just over" two weeks. I was now wondering why she was so astounded that I was walking with a walker. I asked her why she wasn't walking, and she told me she hurt too much, and was unable to walk yet. I asked her, wondering what the problem was, if she was icing her knee and doing the exercises. No, she said with a sigh, she had not gotten around to that yet. She said, do you? I said, I ice at least five times a day, and do the exercises whenever I think of it. I had surgery a week AFTER she did.

She asked me if she could walk with me, and I said, well, first, ice your knee, and then start walking around your room, and make the physical therapy people understand you are very interested in getting moving. She said, well, I am not that interested yet, as it hurts way too much. (Big internal sigh....)

I told her that the longer she waited before she got moving, the harder her recovery would be. She told me that OBVIOUSLY I do not hurt as much as she does. I didn't get into the fact that I had to have a bone reset, along with the knee replaced, but these kinds of people don't want to hear anything but they are having the worst possible luck....)

I ended up agreeing to walk with her next week sometime, knowing that I will likely be home by the time she decides to get going and get walking, and she will probably not be walking by the time I leave, hopefully, this coming Wednesday.

I went back to my room, and really thought about her. Why would you go to all the effort and yes, pain, to have this surgery, and not do what it takes to follow through? Is it fear? Is it just lack of energy? I don't really know, but I do know, that I am doing everything I can to get out of here as soon as I can. I have this weird thing happening, where I still cannot lift my leg...I don't think my brain is sending the right signals to move that leg yet. The staff thinks it is is because it is still so swollen, and my body is saying "you are not quite ready yet". Regardless, I am doing everything in my power to try to get it moving, and know it will sooner or later, and I am going to be in the best possible shape when it does.

My scars all tell a story. I most definitely have some emotional scars from my time as a former fat person, and have a number of scars from surgery, that were, in fact, easier to heal than the emotional scars.

No matter the type of scar, they all require our courage, require us to forgive and love ourselves, to give our best effort, no matter what.

My character is re-welded every day, and I feel like these welds are becoming stronger and stronger, and I am becoming better and better because of, not in spite of, my scars.

I carry all of them with pride and courage, knowing that I can face any scar, and meet it head on. I know how to weld them, and am getting pretty darned good at it.

Spark on.