A few months after we moved, I came down with a strange illness. I was not running a fever, but I felt terrible. It was kind of like having the flu only, in addition, I broke out with hundreds of bumps. They were all over my body, on my head, arms, legs, stomach and back.
And they itched; they itched something awful. They looked terrible, kind of like warts, only they were red.
My mother rushed me to the hospital. The doctor knew what I had immediately, although he did the usual battery of tests to make sure it wasn’t anything unexpected.
The tests proved that I had a case of chicken pox.
The doctor gave me some cream that made the bumps feel better. He warned me not to scratch them, as they might become infected. I immediately applied the cream, and felt much better.
One bump in particular was bothering me. The cream didn’t help it one bit, so I began scratching it, tentatively at first, then with greater and greater frequency. Within a few days it became infected, of course, but it wasn’t serious.
Unfortunately, that little bump left a scar that has been with me for the remainder of my life. It’s visible on my left temple, a large indentation in the skin.
That little scar caused me more embarrassment that just about anything else in my young life. You see, kids love to find little flaws that they can tease about. And I was teased mercilessly while in elementary school, less in junior high. By high school, barely anyone even mentioned it. By then, everyone seemed to have something to be embarrassed about.
Mostly I ignored the comments, as there was nothing I could do about the scar. I did ask the doctor about it later, but he confirmed that there was nothing to be done. I was stuck with it for life.
Now, the scar has become a part of me. It’s been with me most of my life, and I have accepted it as one of those things that makes me unique from everyone else.
Unless otherwise noted, all photos and text is Copyright © Richard G Lowe, Jr.