Scars
Sally Yakimovich
by Sally Yakimovich
Ask anyone over the age of 10 if they have any scars, and I would be willing to bet that 99.99% of the time, they do, and they can remember in exact detail when, how, and where they got them. They will often proudly show you the mark, unless it’s in a delicate spot. If you are a movie buff, you can probably recall the scene in Jaws where the characters are one-upping each other with the scars from their sea faring adventures. Why is it we can remember something that happened to us 10, 20, even 50 years ago, but not what we had for dinner last night?
The word ‘scar’ is defined in the Oxford Dictionary as, “a mark left on the skin where a wound, burn, or sore has not healed completely…” We hear the phrase ‘scarred for life’, whereas bruises are temporary. We might have a bruised ego, but that is a short-term affliction, something that will go away with time.
I can tell you how each of my visible scars happened. The one just above my right eyebrow was from a pillow fight with my brother. He is 9 years older than me, I got one good smack in before he swatted me, sending me flying into the sharp corner of our stereo. It’s still there almost 50 years now. I haven’t asked him, but I wonder if he remembers, or if it’s only the scarred who remember?
Then there’s the one on my right knee from 6th grade. I was running with our dog, tripped and fell on a stick. I ran back to the house to find no sympathy from my mom. I’ve learned as an adult that this is the best way to respond to most kid injuries. I do this daily at my job at the front desk of an elementary school. I listen to their story and ask calmly if they would like an icepack and a band-aid; they always do.
My newest one is on my left breast, still fresh with a red raised mark. It isn’t physically painful, but emotionally. This one, though, proves that I’m alive, I can look at myself in the mirror and I can feel its power. This scar is from my recent breast cancer surgery. It is about an inch long, small really, but when I think about it, it’s so much bigger than the mark. I look at the scar and feel gratitude; I look at the scar and thank the doctors who diagnosed and treated me. We caught it early, DCIS, stage 0. It’s a miracle that my radiologist saw it, as the cancer cells were hiding in a milk duct. He was able to look at my previous mammograms and see the slight irregular formation. My surgeon was confident about her ability to perform the surgery, getting all the cancer cells in one quick cut. My oncologist scheduled me soon after my surgery for five radiation sessions to make sure those pesky cells were eradicated for good. Gratitude and humility are a big part of my cancer story, words I don’t take for granted anymore.
As for invisible wounds, those scars are the ones that make us who we are, what we are made of; they are what make us human. No one escapes from these types of scars, but we can learn to live in harmony with them. There’s a beautiful Japanese word, Kintsugi, that I first heard in the song by Lana Del Rey with the same title. This word means the art of repairing broken pottery by mending the cracks with gold, silver, or platinum. It is a practice that embraces the beauty of imperfections and sees the value of repairing the object, rather than discarding it. And that is how I try to think of all the people, pets, and life-changing events that have cracked my heart a little bit. It’s all for the best in the end, it’s all about the love we give and receive and I wouldn’t change that for any reason in the world.
Sally Yakimovich is a breast cancer survivor living in Flagstaff, AZ.
