empty bottle

so i ran out of lotion tonight.


i bought the lotion months ago. soon after the doc went in and chopped out the cancer along with my lung parts. once i'd healed enough i started slathering it on the scars in hopes they might tone down a bit. this one is nearly gone, but it is about three and a half months older than the others. and it was smaller to begin with. it was through a tiny little slit in my throat that doc found the cancer and set up the chain of events that lead to...


these ones. this one in particular is my favorite to tell the story about. following my surgery i filled up with air - subcutaneous emphysema. my head was the size of a macy's day balloon and i sounded like i had a constant flow of helium into my vocal chords. i even had strange bulges in the beds of my eyes. obviously this couldn't be good. that general feeling was confirmed when doc rolled in, took one look at me, and uttered "whoa". a few moments later i had a hole akin to the valve on a beach ball. good bye, air. hello normal sized head. it wasn't immediate, but in a couple of days i could fit back into my "one size fits all" hats.


and finally, this one. it isn't going to go away. it is my favorite. i can't believe, even now, that someone sliced me up and opened my insides to the big, bad world. good riddance, i say. it itches and aches from time to time and i still have some numbness in spots, but i love this one. it means the world to me. somewhat literally.


and so. an empty bottle. i do need to buy more, my nice smooth skin will thank me. and so will the scars. they take time to heal. some disappear. the one from my chest tube, it doesn't look like much but it sticks out from my skin and i often find myself mindlessly itching at it, forgetting it is a permanent part of me.

along with other small otherwise insignificant happenings, the empty bottle tonight served as a nice reminder of progress. i'll recycle it and move right along. there's lots more lotion to get through.