How Did I Get Onto The Subject Of Bellies?

My belly is a road map of life-saving scars.  You would think that I would be so grateful for them that I wouldn't hesitate to wear the only swimsuit I have - a two-piece - but when my friend suggested we go to some hot springs, I hesitated, saying I would need to get a new swimsuit first.  Up until a year and a half ago, all my surgical scars were covered by this suit, but that last cut made a north-south Main street in the center of my belly, and it screams out, "Look at me!"  (At least that's what I hear.)

I'm still trying to figure out why I think I care about displaying the fine craftwomanship of my surgeon.  I think (but haven't polled anyone to find out) that people are uncomfortable seeing belly scars on women who could cover them up if they wanted to.  But there are people who are also uncomfortable with seeing homeless people and many people with disabilities.  And that doesn't mean that the homeless people or people with disabilities need to hide or cover themselves up.  And I guess it doesn't mean that I need to cover up my belly art.

Still, I feel a little wiggly about flaunting my imperfections.

(Oh, my, there are a few blog posts right there:  My Imperfections...  My Perfect Imperfections... As If You Can't See My Imperfections, No Matter What I Wear...  My Facial Wrinkles Are Invisible, But This Scar Is Flashing Neon!  What Is Perfect?  Is There Such a Thing As An Imperfection?  Can It All Be Perfect?  Are Perfect Scars Really Imperfections?  How Would You Like It If Someone Called Your Work An "Imperfection"!  I AM Beautiful and Perfect - And So Are You!)

Dharma has a new scar on her belly that looks a lot like mine.  But she still stretches out on her back, baring her perfect scar and going completely orgasmic when someone is willing to rub her sweet tummy.  She has no inhibitions about her incision at all.  But then, she also poops out in the middle of the backyard.  While people are watching.  I guess I can't completely compare myself to Dharma...

On the Facebook list for spouses and partners of people with MCL, a woman recently announced that her husband is no longer on Watch and Wait.  A scan indicated growth of the cancer.  I am the only one on the list whose spouse/partner is doing such extraordinary alternative measures.  Maybe, hopefully, the course Michael is taking will put off, indefinitely, any need for coming off of Watch and Wait.  Or it will make Watch and Wait something that can be forgotten, only a memory of a life-changing time.

Anyway, the woman I was talking about - her husband is having a colonoscopy as I type this.  They are checking to see if the cancer is in his colon - a place where MCL likes to take up residence.  The woman posted as she was waiting for her husband's procedure to be done.  She wrote that she was praying like she had never prayed before.  I happened to be on the computer the moment that her comment posted, and I told her I was joining her in prayer.  I really meant it.  I stopped.  I prayed.  Oh, how intimate it can be to pray for someone else, even if we don't know where they are and even if we've never met!  While in the midst of connecting to this woman and her situation, I saw how supported she is.  I could see how much strength she has.

And then I realized that I, too, am completely supported and my very essence is a core of amazing strength.

This last year has pushed me to draw upon that strength.  Hey!  Maybe there is even enough courage in here to be able to calmly and confidently and gratefully wear my bathing suit sometime!

I won't post photos.

Or maybe I will.

Dharma-ism for today:

 THIS is all that matters.

(Dharma and friend, Lisa, loving it up.)