Vanity

Long post warning – Sobering thoughts in the wake of a face surgery. (I’m fine, it was minor surgery)

Vanity – noun – excessive pride in or admiration of one’s own appearance or achievements.

I jokingly say I have two colors. Clorox. And lobster. I’m the definition of fair skinned. Shucks, I am so white my heart doesn’t even keep beat. (And so white I begin sentences with words like shucks. 🥴)

Unfortunately, being that fair skinned lends itself to skin cancer. Recently I had a few biopsies done and learned I do have some basal cell carcinomas and one squamous cell carcinoma. Fortunately they are pretty treatable and if caught early do not bring to bear the full force of the terrible word cancer.

I’ve had some basal cell places removed before but this time a couple of the places in question are on my face. So, when I was talking to the doctor I shared my concern about what the outcome would be in terms of my appearance. “Obviously the most important thing to remove the cancer but I mean I am hoping I just don’t get uglier.” The doc kinda grinned a wry smile and said “Well, I don’t think you have to worry. You can’t get any uglier.” (Did I mention he is a retired military doc?). The nurse gasped. I busted out laughing. This is my kind of doctor!

He went on to show pics of other similar surgeries and assured me they would do the very best they could to make the least impact.

I had my first face surgery last Wednesday. Like they warned, I have two black eyes, a swollen face, one eye swollen almost shut and a big bandage on my forehead. I was so swollen my phone’s Face ID wouldn’t even recognize me.

Yesterday I took off the bandage for the first time. As I looked at the wound, anxiety washed over me. How will that heal in such a way that doesn’t leave a deforming scar? To make matters worse, right now I look like some bully beat me up and took my lunch money.

As I stood in front of the mirror having this internal conversation about looking like this from now on, for some reason I heard the doctor’s words again. “I don’t think you have to worry. You can’t get any uglier”. A smile invaded my anxiety. Tension left my body.

In that moment I realized the genius of his joke. It was a stark reminder that beauty is relative and fleeting anyway.

I looked again more closely at the incision. I saw it differently. It was healing like it should. The cancer that was there before was now gone. The swollen face and black eyes are the body’s way of bringing the healing needed.

The scar that will remain will be a reminder of God’s protection and my survival.

So, I took a shower, got dressed and went shopping (not retail therapy, I bought bandages) and to the golf course to putt a little bit. I can’t hide forever. You know what? Nobody laughed. Nobody looked at me like some disfigured monster. Turns out it’s a lot bigger deal to me than anybody else.

Listen, I am still fighting vanity. Who doesn’t want to look their best? Who wants to look 50? Who wants a scarred up face?

But, I can’t change it. So, I’ll just keep living. I’ll just keep being grateful it wasn’t worse. I’ll just keep finding humor in tough places and laugh anyway. I’ll just get ready for the next surgery on my face. ( maybe I should take my supportive son’s advice and time it for sometime around Halloween 🥴(something about an apple and a tree)).

I suspect I’m not the only that has had a bout or two with vanity. Funny thing is I am quick to remind others that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes and what is most beautiful has nothing to do with physical appearance. I guess I should take my own advice and give myself the same grace. Besides humility isn’t thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less.

Good news is I can still be funny either way, right?😁