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The girl who lived: year 34.
Apr. 5th, 2013 08:09 pm"That which does not kill us leaves us with scars." -Failure To Fire webcomic
As of 11:58 PM April 6, I will have survived for thirty-four years with all my scars still around. I am constantly asked why I don't have the scars smoothed over or rubbed out. And I have finally realized that I don't want to. They are here for a reason. They are not going anywhere. They cannot go anywhere.
Also, if I try to rub out the keloids, I suffer blisters that look like third degree burns. That is what happens to tender newborn prematurely born technically still fetus skin where veins and blood vessels and lungs and brain matter and organs collapse and struggle even in life-saving incubators. All that tape to hold in all those IV needles. Scars all over my abdomen, arms, hands, legs, skull, tiny bits of flesh missing and regrown in textures that look like prokaryote cells - scars that look like tiny nibbles from tiny sharp teeth. Skin that stretches and alters as the body grows, scars that grow with body growth in fascinating ways.
Three months early birth, three months stay in hospital, one pound thirteen ounces, mild periventricular leukomalacia, mild cerebral palsy ... I earned those fucking scars. The only one I might want smoothed out is the one on the side of my right breast, where that tube was inserted to inflate my lung. Sometimes it makes it hard to wear a bra properly since the keloid pulls the breast tissue flat and crooked. But the ankle keloids will stay. They hurt constantly. They are highly sensitive. They bleed extremely. But they remind me. I did not die.
As of 11:58 PM April 6, I will have survived for thirty-four years with all my scars still around. I am constantly asked why I don't have the scars smoothed over or rubbed out. And I have finally realized that I don't want to. They are here for a reason. They are not going anywhere. They cannot go anywhere.
Also, if I try to rub out the keloids, I suffer blisters that look like third degree burns. That is what happens to tender newborn prematurely born technically still fetus skin where veins and blood vessels and lungs and brain matter and organs collapse and struggle even in life-saving incubators. All that tape to hold in all those IV needles. Scars all over my abdomen, arms, hands, legs, skull, tiny bits of flesh missing and regrown in textures that look like prokaryote cells - scars that look like tiny nibbles from tiny sharp teeth. Skin that stretches and alters as the body grows, scars that grow with body growth in fascinating ways.
Three months early birth, three months stay in hospital, one pound thirteen ounces, mild periventricular leukomalacia, mild cerebral palsy ... I earned those fucking scars. The only one I might want smoothed out is the one on the side of my right breast, where that tube was inserted to inflate my lung. Sometimes it makes it hard to wear a bra properly since the keloid pulls the breast tissue flat and crooked. But the ankle keloids will stay. They hurt constantly. They are highly sensitive. They bleed extremely. But they remind me. I did not die.
