My Scar

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This morning I was rubbing my fingers on the dent in my skull near my scar. It still feels strange to me sometimes. When Nathan first discovered it I thought it would freak him out. Instead he thought it was cool. For a long time I could barely feel it when he would touch the area around my incision scar. That area of my head is still slightly numb, but not nearly as much as it used to be. When my parents first proposed to me the idea of having brain surgery my main concern was my hair. "No one is shaving my head!" I declared. Now I think, "Really? That's what I cared most about?" Thankfully, hardly any of my hair was shaved off. Now that I know how much surgery was worth having, I don't care if they would have shaved off my entire head if that meant getting rid of the HH. In some ways I even like my scar and dent in my head. It is part of who I am. I am a little glad that my hair covers the scar, yet I don't think I would want to give up my scar given the opportunity. I've seen people who like to show off their scars for everyone to see how tough they are as though it is their badge of courage. I didn't get my scar in a bar fight or childhood bike accident; however I still feel that I earned it. It represents the hardships I endured while having the HH as well as going through surgery and recovery. It also represents the fight I had with not letting the HH control my life anymore. The fact that my head is still slightly numb eight and a half years post-surgery is a reminder to me that my body might still be healing. Other than struggling with some short-term memory loss and still being on medication I might not daily think about my HH and surgery. My scar will always be reminder of the fight that I won to be the real me.