Living with Scars

Living with Scars

Writers are told to "write what they know," but do we ever? We write what we know but we twist it around and create a fictional story out of it. Sure, the facts are there but they are still distorted and exaggerated for entertainment. There's nothing wrong with that, of course.

There comes a time in every writer's life where they believe it is time to write some truth to their story, a chapter in their life that has affected them in such a way that to put it in fiction doesn't do the reaction justice. It has taken me a very long time to finally put this down, but I figured now, as I am turning 23 and living on my own in College, that I should put this in writing.

On the outside I may be a normal girl. I stand about 4"10, and have long brown hair and glasses. But there are scars that I've learned throughout my life not to cover up, and those are the scars that have made me who I am today. I am not talking about those emotional scars that an event or one person leaves on you. (I have plenty of those, but it is not what I am talking about now) I am talking about physical scars. I have one right down the middle of my chest, and another one that starts from below my right shoulder blade and under my right breast.

I am a survivor of 2 open heart surgeries.

I was born with a heart defect called Tetralogy of Fallot with Pulmonary Artresia. I was born without a right pulmonary artery to my lung. I had my first open heart surgery when I was one years old, and they replaced my lung (as far as I know exactly. I'm pretty sure that's what they did). Before then I would always have blue lips and fingernails from lack of oxygen. After the surgery, I was perfectly fine.

The doctors thought I wouldn't live past one years old, but I showed them. I was a happy girl, always wanting to be active. As I grew older I learned that my heart couldn't take physical exercise. PE was Hell. I couldn't swim like other kids, I couldn't run like other kids. Basically, any heavy sports activities was out of the question. From fifth grade up until freshmen year of high school I did manage to play softball, but one high competition was my only choice, I stopped playing.

In the summer of seventh grade, I had another surgery to repair the leaky lung. That surgery was one of the scariest times in my life, because I remember it. And what I remember, is something that I wish never happens again. I remember waking up on the operating table, seeing the doctors in their white masks, and calling for my dad. That's something that just sticks in your mind, it was like a real nightmare, but it was reality.

The perk of that surgery? A signed poster and soundtrack of Miss Congeniality from Sandra Bullock. (long story short, she's my aunt's best friend. That's a whole different story)

My point is, after that surgery I became self-conscience about my scar. I always tried to wear clothes that covered it up. I still couldn't do rigorous activity, and PE was even deeper Hell in High School. The sports that I wanted to do, I couldn't do. My parents always told me that "you can do it, you just have pace yourself." I knew that it would take a lot of time for me to get to that point of beign able to do sports comfortably, so I stopped trying. Instead, I found Drama and writing and choir as a passion.

I have learned throughout my life that the scars that I have don't stop me from having dreams or any sort of passion, and neither does being short. They are a mark of something that I have fought hard through, they're a battle wound of a war that I won. Now, I feel perfectly comfortable wearing clothes show my scar, because it is part of who I am, it's what makes me, ME. When people ask me what happen, and I say, "heart surgery," they're surprised and shocked, and that's what makes me feel comfortable. It's not something I should hide, it's something I should be proud of.

I wrote this piece in the hopes that someone, who might have had heart surgery or any surgery, would read this and begin to realize the same thing I did. And I want them to know that Living with scars is a symbol of victory over the almost impossible.