When you put a pencil on top of a mound of clay or play-doh, it will leave a little indention. Nothing big, but you can tell that there was pressure on the clay.
It’s not a serious thing and the clay can go back into its old shape quickly, if you play around with it.
That’s how my head was. It was the clay and my scar was the indention. It’s a few inches big, but barely an indention. Like the mark of a pencil from sitting on clay for a few minutes.
I knew the mark. I know how it feels. I felt it over and over again in the weeks after surgery. The week leading up to my last appointment in November, it was more of the same. Touching and rubbing and trying to feel how smooth the scar had become.
It was smooth. Like a little pencil-in-clay indention.
Tonight? Not so much. I was washing my hair when I realized I should probably clean it really well tonight, since I haven’t in quite some time. In fact I don’t think I have since I last went to Miami.
Oh it gets clean every time I shower, but I never put on an extra thing of shampoo just to clean the scar. As I went to rub in the extra shampoo tonight, my hand froze and I gasped a little.
There is no longer an indention in the back of my head.
It’s gone deeper. Further in.
And some how I had no idea.
I can’t figure out any way to explain other than to ask you to imagine two potatoes next to each other. When they’re pressed up against each other (side to side), there’s a valley in between them. There’s a sharp “drop-off.” That’s how my head feels now.
And it makes sense, because my head has been hurting a little.
I fought the tears as I stood there with my hand to my head wondering ‘how did I miss this?’
How does a scar go so much deeper into your head that you can feel the difference, yet you don’t even realize it as it’s happening?
I don’t think it means anything about my health, and it’s probably something that’s ‘supposed to happen on the road of recovery’ or whatever that nonsense is (:]) but it scared me.
It surprised me.
It wasn’t something I expected.
And truthfully, right now? I’d rather my head go back ‘clay.’
Just read this and now I’m worried about you! I hope you are feeling and doing okay.
Kellie
(and congrats on your ACT scores!!!)