Shark Attack

My second-grade school year was a year to remember. It had given me a scar that would be with me forever and play a large role in my self-confidence.

During my second-grade school year, I’d attended Dixon Elementary School located on the Southside of Chicago. During this time, my mom was working and preparing for my arrival out of state upon the completion of my school year. The end of the school year always ended in a family friendly carnival. I remember attending the carnival with my grandma and younger cousin. It was just something cute and fun to do.

The next school day had been a regular day. I knew time was passing by because lunch time seemed to come quicker than usual. Lunch this day would consist of sloppy joe and of course a chocolate milk. I remember grabbing my tray and going to sit at my unassigned-assigned table. I remember placing my tray on the table and reaching down to the floor for my fallen white, wire jump rope. Before I could bring my body all the way up to the table, I remember a stinging feeling. I looked up to see that my tray had fallen on my right pants leg with sloppy joe everywhere. I didn’t think about heat or pain. I was embarrassed because there it was- my lunch was on my leg and I was in a lunch room full of other kids.

I can remember my teacher taking me to the bathroom to look at my leg and then rushing me to the nurse. I remember having my leg exposed and seeing soft pieces of skin and a lighter shade of brown on my leg. I recall the nurses going back and forth discussing the cost of an ambulance and what to do next. The next thing I knew, my aunt had arrived straight from work to give me an early dismissal. I sat on Carla’s couch listening to my grandmother’s frustration and efforts to figure out a plan. I never knew how bad that sloppy joe burn would be until I did. My next trip was to the University of Chicago Hospital where they evaluated the extent of my burn. They’d determined it was a second to third degree burn and it could be cared for ASAP. I remember a thick white cream being applied to my leg with a wooden like popsicle stick. It was painful but that pain was nothing like the pain that was yet to come.

Soon after, I’d moved back with my mom and she’d found Dr. William Magee to guide us through the next steps. We were told that my burn (an earth shaped scar above my right knee) would keloid and give me problems later on in life. Dr. Magee’s plan was to use a tissue expander that would make it possible to give me a flat scar. I wish I would have known what all of this had meant for me *side eyes*.

My first surgery was to put the tissue expander in. It was like a balloon inside of my leg with a tube coming out connected to a white top shaped thing stitched into my leg in three places forming a triangle. I was very confused on how this tissue expander worked until my next doctor visit. I’d been in pain but when I learned how this process was going to go (I squirm thinking about it), I don’t believe I could’ve prepared enough for it. Dr. Magee had returned to me with a saline filled needle about the size of my head to be injected into the white top looking thing. This would be how the tissue expander would…expand. I’d have to do this for weeks. I’d eventually have to do it myself at home. I remember nights watching Whale Wars and sleeping on the couch because I was in pain and could sleep no other way.

The second surgery was done to remove the expander for the final scar. I’d had a bad reaction to the anesthesia hours after the surgery causing me to be rushed back to the hospital. I was nauseous, head on 100, tired, in pain, and tired some more. After being released and given the crutches I should’ve been given the first time, the next part of the journey began. This was the healing journey. I had to care my little wound and eventually ended up like Forrest Gump with a brace on my leg. Unfortunately, I could not run it off. It was a nice brace but walking up and down stairs was a pain in my… Any who!

Now, I have a line and three dots on my leg. Some days I’m cool with it, some days I absolutely freaking hate it. When people ask what happened I’ll say it’s a long story, sometimes I’ll tell them, or sometimes I say, “shark attack.”

And yes, now I hate sloppy joe.

Love,

Lani J