I was two years old when I had open-heart surgery so, for me, it seems perfectly normal that I have always had a scar on my chest. In 2010 however, I was diagnosed with a very aggressive strain of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.
Now I look at my chest and upper arm and see the new scars from the biopsies and the scars left by numerous Picc and Hickman's lines, which remind me of the chemo and the bone marrow transplants I needed. I see the hollows in my body where tumours used to be. My cane is a new addition during my long recovery process.
I see myself as having been forced to fight for my life on two separate occasions. My torso has been a primary battlefield each time and, along with each victory, I have my scars. These remind me where I have been and prove that, if I am determined enough, I will succeed.