Scars and Self-image

As I approach the 19th anniversary of my first heart surgery, meaning that I’ve had my artificial valve now for half my life(!), the “me” I think of when I approach a mirror is still the “me” without the scars.   Now, the original “zipper” is less noticeable both from age and from the others that now surround it.  Every now and then, one strikes me.  A few weeks ago, I suddenly “saw”/noticed how big and dark the scar in my side from two years ago is-the one from the drainage tube and the chyle surgery, which healed wrong so Dr. Peterseim cut it back open in the CVICU–I can still feel the sensation of his fingers in my side–removed the infected tissue and partially stitched it back up, but it had to heal with mainly biodegradable gauze.  Every 2 days for my last month and a half in the hospital, a wound care nurse would come in and change my bandages.
They give my wife, the schoolteacher, a crash course in wound care and showed her how to do what a specialized nurse had been doing–but it saved us getting a home care nurse.
There was a lot to reflect on in that wound alone.  Then there was my  feeding tube hole, which required a slightly *different* kind of cleaning and dressing, and my trach hole–all three requiring slightly different treatments, and different healing times. . . .
Tonight, I looked in the mirror, and somehow the scar from my carotid-subclavian bypass, which prepared the way for my arch-abdominal aorta repair, struck my attention just now and inspired this post.  The bypass is kind of cool in and of itself–you can see my pulse in the tube that runs up my collar bone to my neck–but right under it is the scar, slightly curved, more like a fossilized centipede or a lightning bolt in a movie.
I can make an effort to see the beauty and the meaning in my scars–thankfully, my wife doesn’t need an effort to do it–and it’s much easier with the ones from two years ago–but still, after 19 years, I still expect to see my unscarred “self,” and I’m different.   And maybe it’s different when one chooses it, but I don’t understand how anyone can voluntarily do that–whether it’s piercing, or tattoos, plastic surgery or whatever–to make a permanent change that will be there, not just for the rest of this earthly life but possibly in the Resurrection.
While Catechism paragraph 2297 comes into play in these matters, I’m not really thinking in terms of morality here.  I’m more musing on the emotional experience, but that is  seen with a view to the resurrection of the body.  Presumably, the resurrected body will be free of worldly defects, though some of the Saints suggest those “defects” would instead be glorified.

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