You know that feeling of resistance, the but-I’ve-already-tried-a-million-other-things-so-keep-your-advice-to-yourself feeling? I get it pretty regularly, whether it’s about Baby Bear’s remaining sleep issues (O.M.G. when will it end???) or about my lingering health issues or, as it was a couple of weeks ago, about my scar.
I always have this feeling when people tell me what I should do about my scar. It’s big and bulgy and very visible—almost impossible to cover with anything but a scarf or a turtleneck. And until a couple of years ago, it was also fiery red and painful. I’ve had it for *gulp* 12 years. (How is that even possible?)
Actually, I’ve had this exact scar, the product of my plastic surgery scar revision—which looks exactly like the first one did (yay)—for 10 years. The first scar was the shocking product of my sterno-clavicular joint reconstruction, one of the rarest orthopedic surgeries to fix one of the weirdest problems you’ll ever run across.