Tonight some trusty Achates will surround me and I feel this overwhelming desire to perform some type of tribal ceremonial farewell to my unscathed, untouched abdominal region. This solemn ritual would have to include rambunctious chanting whilst they circle my bed as if I were a spiritual bonfire and each person in turn will have to admire and pay homage to my stomach.
It is in many ways ironic that I am presently mourning the upcoming loss of my “flawless” midriff. I have embellished and misrepresented this area of my body, treating it now as if it were my defining physical feature. I did, in fact, spend the majority of my teenage years moaning and lamenting over its size, lack of muscle or pastiness. Before a party, I admit to adopting a Bridget Jones’ approach and squeezing into “Ultimate Magic Support Waist Cinchers”. On the beach, I was often the girl who quickly removed her sarong, hid her flab with her arms and sprinted into the sea in an attempt to avoid onlookers. However, I currently waste more time agonising about my abdomen and browsing vintage or fashionable high-waisted swimwear than struggling with my immobility or the risks of my surgery! Although there is a large part of me that is disgusted by my superficial obsession and believes that grounding is necessary, would it be better to be permanently thinking about the most serious and pressing issue of the present, surgery? It is, by all means, a waste of a waist.
I had major surgery in July of 2009 to implant a neurostimulator in my head. It's a very invasive surgery which leaves very sore for several weeks and with 4 not insignificant scars. The bit I was most freaked about? Saving my head.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't get passed the idea. We worked out a way for me to only shave the back of head but I still found it very upsetting while I took everything else in my stride.
It's strange the things we fixate on. Though I think a little light worry is a good distraction from the more serious.
I'll apologise in advance if I say anything that's patronising or insensitive.
ReplyDeleteI had heart surgery when I was two (I'm now 21) and thus have a large scar running down from the top of my chest (as well as numerous scars from chest drains). My scar has never been an issue for me- I think having been so young when I first got it helps.
It's only now that I'm older that I've realised that it's something that people may notice and comment upon(Unless I was to wear a polo-neck (which I wouldn't) Its pretty much on show all the time). I've never had a negative response, people are generally in awe and impressed-I take great pleasure explaining to people that I was bit in half by a shark/crocodile (Which admittedly quite a childish thing to do but, equally, it's great fun).
Anyway what I'm trying to say is that there is nothing wrong with having a scar or two.
Good luck with your surgery and I hope this comment hasn't been too patronising.
I had my first back episode when I was at primary school. My life was punctuated by increasingly incapacitating attacks. I saw osteopaths, physios, chiropractioners. In my early 30's I had an attack where I could barely stand. I know that simian walk, I know how it feels to do your shopping in a wheel chair. I've had a GP who suggested I had a low pain threshold. If he knew anything at all, he would know that people with back pain have to develop a very high pain threshold. They have no choice.
ReplyDeleteTo cut a long story short, I had an operation eight years ago on two collapsed disks. The relief was incredible. I have a neat 2" scar on the small of my back. I am now in my mid 50's and making up for lost time.
I just wanted you to know that I do not regret the pain and difficulty I had. It gave me time to think ....a precious commodity. It might seem very odd to say this, but I have learned to feel gratitude for the challenges in my life.
I wish you a highly successful surgery and a joyful and inspired future.
I think its a reaction to the unknown of the surgery, to focus on something else -- like your waist, shaving your head, etc.
ReplyDeleteWhen I had my ovaries removed I worried about the scar -- and I didn't even wear bathing suits, let alone bikinis!