My first scar was acquired before I was even old enough to see colors.
I was 2 weeks old, and when my mother tried to feed me, I would projectile vomit the contents of my stomach across the room.
My mother said it was quite impressive ... the distance my vomit would go.
However, it was symptomatic of a condition called pyloric stenosis. https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/pyloric-stenosis/symptoms-causes/syc-20351416
This condition is more common in boys than girls, and requires surgery to fix it.
At 2 weeks old, the only way to administer intrevenous medication is through the scalp, and that was how it went for me.
I had surgery to repair the pyloric valve that separates my stomach and small intestine. This would enable me to eat and supply my body with nutrients.
After the surgery, my father was able to see me, and because of the placement of the IV, fluids had built up on one side of my head, giving my noggin a lopsided, swollen and misshapen appearance. My father told me that he wept when he saw that.
Fortuntely, I survived and grew up to be a healthy person. Now in my early mid-century years, the scar I acquired at two weeks old is a constant reminder of my father, who passed over to the other side more than 2 years ago.
I love you and miss you, Dad.
Please, #helpmegrow
It is touching to read to how scars have become beloved memories of people who have passed. I'm glad that you are here today to tell the story.