Ignorance is Bliss?

"Eww, what's that on your arm??"

That, lovely person who is drunk and I have never met before, is what keeps me alive.

I have had numerous people coming up to me in clubs, bars, shops, uni, you name it, questioning me about my arm.

I am all for people asking what my fistula is. It is an interesting, yet slightly creepy thing and we, as the human species, are curious creatures. That does not, however, give you the right to be a total douche. You want to know more about my health and disease then by all means ask, I am happy to tell you anything. Just don't be so ignorant.

I use to work in a club and had to wear a dress that didn't cover my arms (or much else to be honest) and three or four times a night I would have people coming up to me and asking what had happened to my arm. It happened so often that I came up with the story that I had recently been to Arizona with my Dad and was bitted by a King Cobra. This story was foolproof until some biologist came along and was like "yeeeah..... King Cobras are from Southeast Asia!" Should've done my research!

The point is, I have to accept that my arm is a talking point and I am totally fine with that. I adore my scars. They are the lines on which I write my stories and the proof that I have battled relentlessly to get to where I am.

I have mentioned B briefly before in one of my past posts. We have been close friends for probably just under five years and she is one of the brightest, most loyal people you could even wish to meet and she, like me, has scars.

I'll keep her story short as to not embarrass her because I know she will be. At the start of our fifth year at school, B fought severe septicaemia and had to basically get all of her organs taken out of her body, cleaned and put back in again. As a result of that she has a scar leading down her tummy. May I just add, she was in hospital for like three months yet still achieved 5 A's! Incredibly smart.

We had a conversation a few years after her op and she asked me how I dealt with my scars. I said it like I did above. I love them but B wasn't so enthusiastic.

I would just like to tell you now, B, that your scar is beautiful and so are you. On the inside and out. That scar you have has given you the determination to do everything you have over the past five/six years and it is the reason you will become an amazing doctor.

Your scars are something to be admired and cherished. I know that my ex's and my current boyfriend love my scars and whoever you are with should love them too. If they don't well..... bye bye.

I cannot tell you how strongly I feel about showing off your scars, no matter where you got them from. Unless you are some crazy killer. In that case, hind them. Ain't nobody got time for that!

Whether you have a chronic illness, Crohn's disease, are a transplantee, whatever, you have earned your beloved life lines.

Be proud of them. Show them off. And don't ever care what other people think. You will always get the "eww, what's that" kind of people but let me tell you... they don't deserve an answer.