Scars.

Scars. Everyone seems to be afraid of them. But why? They are like little pictures that tell a story and no two scars are alike. Scars from IVs line my hands, wrists, and arms, but they are a symbols of all the ketamine infusions, blood tests, contrast for CT scans, and plain old IVs for hydration and medication administration in the ER. My back is littered with scars from hundreds of trigger point injections, about 20 epidurals, 1 tunneled epidural catheter, and a surgical scar. My fingers and hands have multiple scars, 2 from surgeries and 1 from accidentally slicing my finger open on the Operation game when I was 4. I have a surgical scar on my chest. I have a big surgical scar on my left ankle and a little surgical scar on my right foot. I also have scars on my legs from Foley catheters breaking down my skin and one from cutting my knee on a glass door. And even though no one can really see them, I have one scar behind each of my ears from my cochlear implant surgeries. I’m proud of my scars because they tell a story of all that I’ve endured and overcome. Wear your battle wounds proudly!

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