When shadow turns into light : prompt
Proof Of Life
How a scar can be a talisman
When I was twelve, not quite a year after my mother died, I got a wicked case of appendicitis. I suffered for three days before my father — who didn’t believe in doctors — took me to a small town hospital emergency room.
I was diagnosed, admitted, and placed on IV antibiotics. The ruptured appendix had formed an abscess against my abdominal wall and that was the only reason I was still alive. The plan was to quiet things down with antibiotics and remove the appendix over Christmas break.
It was Halloween.
My appendix had other plans — as it turns out — it was delivered on a rather expedited schedule. I was released from the hospital on my birthday in mid-December.
I sport a rather impressive scar from this surgery on the right side of my abdomen. Complete with a second drain scar next to it which is alone larger than most other Human’s actual appendectomy scars.
The scars have never really bothered me. I was just glad to know it wasn’t my day to die back then. The whole episode smacked of Divine intervention to make sure I stayed on this plane of existence. The scars exist because I had survived.
