Scars

Why do we have to have scars? Isn't it just a constant reminder of something that was unpleasant. Something that will remind us every time we look at it?
I am writing this post, purely for selfish reasons. That's right. I am hoping no one actually takes the time to read it. If there is anything I have learned in this life, it is not to keep things bottled up inside. Eventually, you explode.
I am writing this, in hopes of getting all of my feelings out. So I won't explode.
I am also writing it in hopes to save myself from crying on the phone to a neighbor who happens to call right as I am taking off my dressing FOR THE FIRST TIME. In hopes that I will stop crying every time I look at myself in the mirror.
Here goes...I had a basal cell carcinoma removed from my face on Wednesday. So grateful to my sweet sister who noticed it, and caught it before it spread further. The problem...the doctor had to take a lot of skin off my face to get rid of all of it.
I thought I wouldn't care. I am old. I am married. I have no one to "impress".
I was wrong. I care. I care that my face is webbed around my eye. I feel like something off of star trek. I am fearful of the fact that I may need skin grafts to fix it.
Most of all, I am angry. Angry with myself for caring. I shouldn't be so upset with a little scar, when there are people missing limbs, or with terrible scars from burns, blind, deaf...my scar is so little compared to their scars. I wish I didn't care.
I hope I feel a little better know having this off my chest. Please help the next person who calls me...maybe I shouldn't answer!