Do you have scars on your body? Have you ever taken time to count them? I don't think I have many really. I have the scar at the base of my neck where my thyroid gland was removed. I have a scar across my abdomen where my gallbladder was removed. I have a scar across my lower belly where I had a hysterectomy. I have scars on my right leg where the steel pins were inserted. I have scars from burns when I was cooking, scars from having my babies (service stripes of motherhood) and then I have various other small scars from cuts throughout my life. (I’ve always been a bit of a klutz.) And then there are my cancer scars.
I have the typical mastectomy scars, the two four/five inch incisions on my chest. Then there are the two smaller ones under each arm from the lymph node removals and the drainage tube scars. I try not to think too much about those scars but it's hard to ignore them. I see them every day when I shower or get dressed. They are always there like “silent loud speakers."
Some women say they see their cancer scars as badges of honor. They “wear” them proudly. Their scars represent how much they’ve been through, how hard they’ve “fought." I guess I feel like that too, to some extent. But then again, I’m not so sure. My scars are just there. I don’t feel honored by them. I’m certainly not proud of them. I try my best not to let others see them, but sometimes that can't be helped. This weekend, two of my daughters saw them...not because they wanted to, heaven forbid! Laura had to see them when I went for my post op appointment and the doctor took off the steri-strips and other dressings. I apologized to her afterwards when we were in the car driving home. I know it must have been devastating for her to go through that experience. Then yesterday, Jamie, my youngest daughter had to see them. I needed help changing my bandages and the only way that could be done was to remove my camisole and allow her access to them. Immediately non-stop tears began to flow down my cheeks as she tenderly removed the bandages and replaced them with dry, clean ones. I told her how sorry I was that she had to see my scars. I know how hideous they are and how it must have impacted her to view them. I even try to hide my scars from my husband, because yes, I am more self-conscious now. I have a strange relationship with my scars. Sometimes I choose to see them. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes they bother me. Sometime they don’t. I’d much rather they weren’t there. It doesn’t matter anyway. They’re not going anywhere. They are here to stay.
Many breast cancer survivors proudly pose topless, or even in the nude. (You'll never catch me doing that!) They claim to be making a statement of one kind or another. Posing for such pictures or causes takes guts. Showing your scarred body publicly cannot be easy. Kudos to them. I applaud them. I do. They certainly are inspiring to many, including me. But guess what? I am even more inspired by the women (and men) who share about their inner scars; the ones they can’t see, the ones no one sees.
When you think about it, those inner, invisible scars are the ones that often hurt the most. I have deep inner cancer scars that I have yet to share about. In some ways these are the ones that feel most personal, cause the most pain, and are hardest to talk about. These are the scars that take the longest to heal, and perhaps never completely do.
Inner scars, the ones carved deep into your heart and soul...those are the ones caused by verbal abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, and hurtful words. Those scars aren't visible to the eye but never the less, they are there. They are very real. Any physical scars you've received in your life have probably healed much more quickly and much more fully than the ones that were seared into your memory forever. We all have scars of some sort. Some are visible and explainable. And some are not.
I know that over time, my scars will become lighter in intensity. The deep red gouges will fade to a lighter shade of pink. They will be less obvious but will never be invisible. They will be a constant reminder of much pain and anguish. And like the scars, the pain and anguish will diminish over time. Right now, the wounds and the pain are fresh and raw. They are constant reminders of the recent trauma my body has been through. But do you know I'm not as concerned about the physical scars as I am about the mental scarring that has taken place.
Satan screams at me that I'm not good enough anymore. That I am damaged goods. That I am ugly. That my husband will no longer find me attractive. He whispers in my ear that something I did caused me to have cancer. Maybe it was the way I was eating, maybe it was something else...he says it was my fault. I can feel him slinking in the corner, waiting and watching for me to fall into depression...to turn the anger in on myself...to cry over what was and now what will never be again. He finds joy in my pain. My faith in God allows me to see and know the way he works and with that knowledge, I am able to combat those lies with truth.
God tells me that yes, I have been through a traumatic ordeal. Yes, my body is red and tender and painful but it will heal in time. He reminds me that though my body is no longer in its original state, that it is still beautiful to Him. He doesn't look upon my body. He looks upon my heart. The scars that are topical don't penetrate His deep abiding love for me and they never will. They don't detract from my spirit. So even though I have a few more scars today than I did yesterday, I'm still okay. The main thing is that even when I don't feel loveable, He loves me anyway and I'll hold onto that. After all, scars are souvenirs you never lose.
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