Thankful For The Scars

I have been dealing with a few health challenges lately. And they have left me with a few scars. Actual, literal scars and a few emotional ones as well.

I have not been very good about getting myself to the doctor over the past several years. There – I admitted it. I am so very strict about making sure my daughter gets to the doctor, or dentist, whenever she needs it. Whatever she needs to stay healthy, that is a priority.

But when I comes to myself, I’m a bit more lax. I tend to put off appointments, and cancel appointments I’ve made only to reschedule and then cancel and reschedule again.

There was a mass growing in the side of my neck. I noticed a lump there; not so much seeing it in the mirror, but feeling it under the skin. I put off going to have it checked out for about 6 months. No, longer; it was closer to a year. Awful, right?! How could I do that?! Don’t I know my daughter needs me, and I need to take care of myself so I can take care of her?!

So I finally made an appointment with my primary care physician last winter – December, no less. Right before my insurance benefits for the year ran out, so I wouldn’t have to pay out of pocket. That, and because my mom got involved.

I had cataract surgery on my right eye in October (yeah, I’m way too young for cataracts – everyone has told me that. But … it happens) and my mom drove me home after the procedure. They pretty much put you under for the surgery, and after I was still pretty loopy. Well, not silly as much as just out of it. I don’t remember anything between pre-surgery and arriving home.

Next day mom calls to check on me and ask if I made an appointment with my primary care doctor. I respond, “No. Why?” She explains we talked on the way home (we did?) and she told me my doctor (who is also her doctor) is retiring at the end of the year, and I told her about the lump I had noticed in my neck, and that I should schedule an appointment to get it looked at.

Oops. Trapped. Now I must make an appointment, because mom’s involved. And we all know, moms don’t let it go.

So I see the doctor, and he tells me it’s been seven (7) years since I’ve sat in his office for an exam. Now we have to make up for lost time – mammogram, blood work, first-time colonoscopy, etc. AND the lump on my neck. He refers me to a surgeon who specializes.

I see the surgeon, we fine-needle biopsy the lump, and they can’t tell for sure if it’s benign or malignant. But due to the size of the mass, plans to remove the left half of my thyroid are made.

And then surgery comes. March 11th. I am a little nervous because anesthesia makes me so nauseous after surgery. I hate feeling like that! Thankfully, this time it’s not too bad. I get sick, but it’s all okay in the end. I don’t really feel as awful as I suspected I might. The nurses are great, and my mom and daughter are there for me during my stay in the hospital.

I take time off from work – 2 days – for the surgery and recovery. Surgery is on Monday, I leave the hospital to recover at home on Tuesday, and I am back at work on Wednesday. Yes, I am an idiot for only taking two days off, but I actually did fine and healed quickly. It wasn’t as bad as one would expect.

Now we just wait for the scar to heal. That garish, gnarly scar on my neck for all the world to see. It’s purple, literally. A lovely shade of plum. Right there, front and center on my throat. I’ve joked that I look Frankenstein. My co-workers have assured me it’s not that bad. And it’s healing more as time goes by. But it’s still pretty noticeable. I am sure it will fade over time, and I won’t feel so self conscious about it.

And then I think about the scar on my neck, and the one on my foot. And the scars from my two C-sections which gave me our two beautiful daughters. And the scars I carry but which can’t be seen. The scars from Robby’s battle with his brain tumor, and being his caregiver that year. The scars from the loss of my husband. The scars of being a solo parent, and the constant, nagging worry about doing enough for my daughters.

I realize the scars are the physical and emotional manifestations of my experiences. The scars, literal and metaphorical, are mileposts and markers. And they all point to God’s faithfulness. Each scar and bruise and mark is a reminder of His care for me, and the trials God has brought me through.

He continues to keep me safe, regardless of the circumstances. He continues to be a safe harbor for me and my family. When I am faced with something that feels overwhelming and scary, I have learned to lean on God. Scars represent healing He has brought to us. We are healed, yet not the same. We have been altered slightly, and are stronger because of it.

Scar tissue that develops after an injury or surgery forms to make that area of the body stronger. It’s fibrous tissue that replaces normal skin following an injury.

Scars are a natural part of the body’s healing process. A scar results from the biologic process of wound repair in the skin and other tissues. Most wounds, except for very minor ones, result in some degree of scarring.

The new scar tissue will have a different texture and quality than the surrounding tissue. Scars form after a wound is completely healed.

WEBMD.com

We’re different after our healing. Our scars are proof of that fact. We don’t heal back the way we were previously. There’s a mark we bear from that time forward. A new texture or quality to our lives that comes as a part of our healing. Our scars show what we have been through. What we have survived.

This song is actually the inspiration for this post. I listened to this song the other day, and thought is expressed perfectly how I feel about my scars. (I do not own the rights to this music.)

So I am glad for the scars. And I am glad for Christ’s scars on my behalf. His scars provide me eternal life. The scars on his hands, feet and side assure me heaven awaits. He carries the scars from His sacrifice as reminders of His love for me, and for you.

But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5, NIV

Here is the second part of this story about my thyroid: Thyroid Cancer – How I Am Coping.

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Would you like some prayer, for yourself or your family? Is there a certain situation you are facing where you’d like some “prayer support”? Let me know, and I would be happy to add you to my prayer list. I know how difficult it is to be a solo mom, and feel like you are totally on your own.  But you’re not – and we can all use prayer from time to time. Prayer requests are never posted anywhere – it’s just between you and me. I simply want to lift up other moms and be a blessing to them. I would be honored to pray for you and your needs! Contact me here with any prayer requests you may have.

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