My Scar

                                                                 My Scar

    “OUCH”, I said to David. He and I were goofing off during band practice one day. He twisted my

right wrist.  I didn’t think much of it at the time. It hurt a little but I soon forgot all about it. Then

 about a week later I started having pains in my right wrist.  I was having a hard time being able to

bend it. I noticed a large bump formed under the skin on the top of my wrist. I didn’t tell my

parents. I figured they wouldn’t believe me and would think it was just growing pains.  It wasn’t until I was in my first semester of college that I noticed that the bump on my wrist was getting bigger. Since Mom used to work with a hand surgeon, she still had connections. So I went to see the Dr. and we set a date for the surgery. It would be on January 13, 1978. This date actually fell on a Friday of all days. I went into the hospital the night before, so I would be ready to go into surgery the next morning.

   When I woke up I noticed that my right hand was all bandaged up. I expected this since it was the hand that had the cyst. My left hand, which happens to be my dominant hand, was all swollen. I asked what happened, I found out that they were putting the IV in and it didn't get put in right. So they had to put the IV in a different place. I was not able to feed myself since both my hands were incapacitated. Thankfully my Mom was there and was willing to feed me once I was able to have solid foods. The part I remember though was her shoveling it into my mouth and not waiting for me to swallow before she was trying to shove more food in my mouth. She wasn't very patient.  I stayed in the hospital for a couple of days.

   I was not able to drive at this time, so my Mom took me to my College for my classes. My parents decided that I couldn't drive myself until I could have my pinky touch my thumb on my right hand. Any other time this would have not been a big deal but since I had just had surgery, my hand was still swollen. 

   I was so happy to get the stitches out of my hand. However, it left a big scar on my wrist that looks like a snake.  I have gotten used to having my scar on my wrist. I forget that it’s there most of the time, unless someone is brave enough to ask me about it.

    Just this past year I thought that maybe I wanted to get a tattoo where my scar is located. I want a rope looking chain and then make it look like a charm bracelet and have several charms on there. I thought of putting circles and then have my kid’s names on there with their birthday.  Thankfully I only have 4 kids.  However, the scar has been with me now for over 40 years. Scars tell a story and without my scar showing I guess I would have no story to tell.