It's kind of inevitable. Sometimes it's noticed right away. Sometimes I've known the person for months or even years before one day they burst out, "Oh my goodness! Did you burn yourself?"
The scar on my arm has been a part of my life for a long, long time. I was born with a large oval birthmark on my right arm and when I was 3 or 4, the doctors decided to take it out. I'm not even sure why.
I have vague memories of going to CHKD for the surgery. Mostly I remember that I took my Raggedy Anne doll, and the doctors gave her a hospital gown, cap, and mask. I thought it was so cool that I took it home so I could play with her new "outfit".
I'm never offended when people ask about my scar. I actually think it's kind of funny when it takes them so long to notice. (Although to be fair, it is covered most of the winter.)
The doctors offered to do another surgery to remove the rest of the birthmark so my scar would be less noticeable, but when I was little I didn't really know any different. And now it's a part of me.
Photo credit: Jennifer Carr Photography
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About My Scar
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