without civilization

The area on and around the scar on my back is numb to all sensation. It has been this way since it was initially wounded; I'm not presenting you with a recent development in my life. It's about an inch and a half wide by nine inches long, and it feels nothing. I've grown accustomed to it for the most part. When someone is scratching my back I now anticipate the little hop from one side of my back to the other. I recognize that a massage will never be quite as satisfying as it once was. I will never be able to tell if somebody tapes a kick me sign right to the middle of my back.

But today I realized the worst effect of all.

Those 13 1/2 square inches of skin will never be warm again. Jack Frost has been so adamantly forcing himself upon us, refusing to yield until every last one of us has given up the fight against his wiles and resigned to the fate of three months of shivering. Today in my last valiant effort to vanquish the cold, I took a hot shower once I got home. It seemed to be working until I realized the sad truth. A blank, deadened spot right in the middle of everything, that no amount of steaming water could reach. I felt the comfort of the warmth to either side, but right there in the center, nothing. It's going to be a long winter.

I guess there are bright sides, though. Perhaps my expanse of numb skin will become the opposite of an Achilles' Heel. My Paris' Spine. I will be invincible there--just try to poke or pinch me! Do your worst! I feel nothing. Or if some future boyfriend accuses me of being unfeeling, I can quickly turn the tables in that argument by making him feel guilty about bringing my scar into it. Who's the insensitive one now, future bf?