Could you NOT leave me with a scar?

Another feature I would like to fix still concerns my face… scars. During the summer holiday between the first and second years of uni, I was unlucky enough to get chicken pox. I actually had these already, when I was eight, so when my brother and sister got them, I didn’t keep away… in fact, I probably teased them, as would any sibling! So the powers that be decided that my retribution would be a double dose of the dreaded pox. It was AWFUL. Adult pox are particularly aggressive, and I was not spared. I was fainting and itching and feverish and scabby – add the prickly January heat, and I was in agony. Some of the scars on my face never healed perfectly, unfortunately, and the crevices that remain are an endless source of frustration, in particular, the small dent in the front of my nose, which simply can’t be disguised.

At the very top of my forehead, where a widow’s peak might reside, I also have another scar, in the shape of a cross (or aeroplane, as I used to say!). This was acquired when I fell out of the car window, as a three year old. Don’t worry, my parents took good care of me! I was just a mischievous girl, with agile fingers, and freed myself from the car seat, only to land head first on the asphalt. In later years, as I was sliding down the banister rail leading from our front door to the garden, it broke, and one of the nails found its way into my head, at the same point as the aeroplane scar. A couple of stitches sorted that out, and I was too young to know whether that contributed to the overall appearance of the scar, but I’m sure it didn’t help. Sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes I forget it’s there, but I would like if it wasn’t there at all, so it wouldn’t hurt to ask about that one as well.

So that's the last episode in the series of 'Janet's Imperfections'. Tune in next week for more of our romantic frivolity...