Showing my Scar?

Today I'll take my first bath since Thursday morning, before surgery. To be more accurate, I will take a shower because there's no way I could get into and then out of our bath tub. But first my bandage comes off and, we were told, the wound should get fresh air from this point on. I'm not crazy about taking off this thick, cushy shock-absorber, but at this point I just do what I'm told.

Cheryl has her hands full with Bingo and me, and she does it without complaining or fussing. I am really a lucky guy.

I've flirted with the idea of posting a picture of my scar, which I'm guessing will look like a pale and pimply Thanksgiving turkey, ready for the oven, with stuffing sewed up in the its gut. But why would anyone want to see a swollen, painful looking scar?

Yesterday CNN showed a film over and over. On a subway station, a baby stroller breaks free from a group of adults and rolls right over the edge and disappears just before a train comes by. The baby was not harmed--the train just pushed the stroller down the track for several yards, but none of this is on camera. The CNN viewer sees only the horror and imagines the worst.

Back in 1984 I was in a bad car wreck and during my recovery I spent hours watching a new channel called CNN, which at that time (to the best of my memory) covered real news. Today CNN has learned what every class clown learns in grade school--to get attention, you have to show your ass. Or maybe your scar.