That’s another thing about being a certain age that I’ve noticed: I try as much as possible not to look in the mirror. Because even if you are being operated on for something serious or potentially serious, even if you honestly believe that your health is more important than vanity, even if you wake up in the hospital room thrilled beyond imagining it wasn’t cancer, even if you feel elated, grateful to be alive, full of blinding insight about what’s important and what’s not, even if you vow to be eternally joyful about being on the planet Earth and promise never to complain about anything ever again, I promise you that one day soon, sooner than you can imagine, you will look in the mirror and think, I hate this scar.Īssuming, of course, that you look in the mirror. If you learn nothing else from this essay, dear reader, learn this: Never have an operation on any part of your body without asking a plastic surgeon to come stand by in the operating room and keep an eye out. It was shocking, because I learned the hard way that just because a doctor was a famous surgeon didn’t mean he had any gift for sewing people up. I had an operation that left me with a terrible scar just above my collarbone. My own experience with my neck began shortly before I turned forty-three. Nora Ephron (1941–2012), New York Times bestselling author, was a journalist, novelist and screenwriter with a knack for writing about life and love with grace and humor.
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