roadmaps

Way back in 2000 i had an operation where they removed one of the lobes in my right lung (two lungs: 3 lobes on one side, 2 on the other. now i'm balanced with two on either side). I had a carcinoid tumor that was benign (read: not something that spread), and i named this invader Johnny Carcinoid because i was anticipating its retirement happening sooner rather than later. Out it came and while it was an event i never want to repeat again, i went forward sporting a gnarly scar, and started running, dancing, etc. so i could really feel my lungs at work. About 3 years later, i started feeling all these weird twinges and pulls around where the surgery had been and i FREAKED out. Was totally certain that Johnny-boy was back and all kinds of fears flooded my brain. I had a scan and all turned out to be fine, but i was thrown off-kilter wondering how something i thought had passed could rise up with such force and scare the bejeesus out of me again.

My friend F, an anesthesiologist, told me that our bodies often go into shock after major trauma and it can sometimes take years before all the nerve endings and feelings return to normal around that particular spot. This, he said, is a part of the healing process, giving our bodies time to build scar tissue, get used to tenderness and generally move forward. All of this happening instinctively, with our bodies working exactly as they're meant to.

Naturally I'd been under the impression that the event was over and, just like the mark left on the outside of my body, the edges would soften and all that would remain would be a faint trail as a reminder. I now get so much more clearly how time cannot be counted on when it comes to scars. As for the marks on the inside, I can be transported back into a moment by just a smell, a dream, a brief flash of seeing something. And there must be gentleness in the handling. I've always been prone to moving through something and thinking it's done,done,done, wiping my proverbial hands of it and walking away. Well imagine my surprise when seemingly out of nowhere I'll feel a little tickle inside and wham a moment, memory, person rises up and i'm shaking all over again. The jagged little edges as pink and angry as ever. Well, hello there sailor, time to ride the rough seas again until some calmness comes and whoosh i'm floating again.

The thing about scars, the kind you can see, is that you can, er, see them. And they seem to serve as a kind of invitation to remember the event. Hi, I'm that lightning-bolt indent on your left index finger. remember how i came to be when you were removing that avocado pit and the knife slipped? You knew you should go get stitches, but it was nighttime and some TV show was on you wanted to watch and, oh yeah, NYC emergency rooms are not a really enjoyable destination. so there was that. I'm that moment that you chose convenience and wishful thinking over immediate medical attention, though you were scared you might bleed to death if you took a hot bath. Or, hey, remember me? I'm that little faint line on your forehead where you slid into the corner of the door when you were five after tripping in the kindergarten classroom. And you didn't want to make a scene (or whatever the thought process is at five) though you were scared at how much your head was bleeding. I'm that moment in time when you felt unsure about asking for help.

I was at a party recently where i was talking about scars with three guys in the kitchen. They all had these great stories (and scars to show for them) about flying off their bike, or jumping off the roof or crashing through a plate-glass window (well, actually that one wasn't so great, maybe a little more tragic, although the crasher is OK now), and their faces lit up in the telling. Revisionist history, I think. We celebrate what we've been through and it gets better with the recounting. Whether it's the physical or emotional stuff, it can make me stronger, though I'm finding sometimes a scar stays pink and angry for longer than i'd like it to. But I'm still celebrating whatever it is that brought me to stumble into it and come out the other side. This roadmap of life can get pretty interesting.