So, wouldn’t you like to be bitten by a shark or shot by a bullet?! Maybe it’s just me, but assuming I could recover with no real permanent injury, I think I’d like to. It’s the slight disfigurement we are looking for… the cool scar and the bragging rights that come along with it. There isn’t anything more bad-ass than shark bite scars and bullet wound scars.

What’s your scar with the best story?

Unfortunately mine isn’t as bad-ass as it is mildly humorous. Back in 2002 I was traveling in South America. I had bought a one-way ticket down there and was lost – headed somewhere I was sure, but I really hadn’t a clue where that would be.

I found myself on the Chilean island of Chiloe, and while killing time waiting for a bus found a local market to wander through. It was then that I stumbled on what I believe to be the source of this scar. Oysters. Six of them already on the half shell, staring at me under their protective plastic wrap. I didn’t think, I just acted. I should have thought. They’d been sitting in the sun for who knows how long. I like oysters and I had to have them. Oh, I was so naive back then.

A couple days later I found my belly extremely distended. I bet I could have convinced people I was pregnant. It was uncomfortable to say the least. I had to waddle to walk around. There was gas. Lots of it. From both ends. It provided frequent yet temporary relief. But it smelled horrible. Really really horrible. Like biological warfare weapon horrible.

I was in Bariloche, Argentina and it was Easter. They probably have some of the best food, wine, and chocolate in all of South America. I couldn’t fit any of it into my belly.

Fortunately it subsided. Time heals all wounds, right? Nope. It came back and by this time I was in Bolivia, which despite its many charms, isn’t really known for its medical facilities. And I was a cheap/broke backpacker not about to pay to see a doctor as long as I could still stand. So I went to a farmacia, and told my whole story and all its grotesque details to the nice pharmacist. He explained to me in Spanish that it was an amoeba. I took his word on this along with the big box he gave me that had one huge horse pill in it.

I did as he said and took it before I went to bed. Like a magic pill.

The next day I woke and felt better. In a few days I felt normal again. Not a trace remained from the previous conditions. Except now I had an ‘outtie’ belly-button. Nobody likes an outtie belly-button. I got over that though and thought of it as a funny reminder of that particular travel experience. Besides it was a pretty good party trick too. “Look now an innie, now an outtie!”

Apparently this is an hernia. Somehow my distended belly tore a bit of muscle in my stomach wall. Okay for now, but some day my bowels or intestines could just pour right out if I strained too hard.

Not a pretty idea, so when I had health insurance in 2005 (courtesy of Snowbird Ski Resort) I got it all sewed up and was left with a little half moon scar above my belly-button. There, all better.

More or less. It’s started to weep a little over the past couple years and has felt a little funny lately (I’ll spare you the picture), so I thought I’d get it checked out before I lose my health insurance at the end of the month.

I had an ultrasound. The technician had fun with it, cause I think she really enjoyed not having to deal with some crazed, anxious pregnant woman for once. I got an ultrasound picture of my belly. It’s on my refrigerator now and I’m tempted to post it on Facebook just to confuse people.

Me and my ultrasound!

Turns out the hole is back. About 1cm in diameter. Really not a big deal, just going to have it fixed next week while I have the health insurance. But it means a new scar and another chronicle in the story.

What’s your coolest scar story?

Stay safe, unless it leads to a cool scar!