My Vanities....

“Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice    

"I feel so ugly!" was my tearful assessment that first night home from the hospital as I surveyed my limp hair, the tube sticking out my lower abdomen and my lost stomach muscles. 

Wow, had I forgotten I just had major surgery?  What was wrong with me?  I should be thankful that I was even alive and here I was worrying about my looks.

Thinking back to my hospital stay, I remember a couple of good friends asked if I was up to visitors.  My response, "I smell bad and look kind of greasy but would love a visit."  Even in my hospital bed I was concerned with how I looked.  How sad it that?

It gets worse. The Monday after my release from the hospital, when my home health care nurse came to change the dressing on my incision and put in a new wound vac tube, my first instinct was to lament "I look like a homeless person."  (In my defense, I was wearing Lance's flannel pajama bottoms with the bleach stains hung low on my hips, an old oversized tee with a Scuba Mexico insignia and a ten year old track jacket; my hair still unwashed and my face shiny with oil.)

This past weekend, as Lance and I were sitting out on the deck,, he suggested I might want to go for a walk with him and Ellie to the end of the block and back.  He said we could wait until after dark so no one could see me with my tubes, if that would make me more comfortable.  (Does he know me or what?)   That got me thinking - did it really matter if my neighbors saw me when I looked less than my best?  So, I bit the bullet and walked with him - in broad daylight with my unwashed hair and unfashionable outfit.  And I am glad I did.

Later that night, he took me for a drive in the convertible to get a root beer float. I have to admit, I did pull my hair back in a ponytail to try to look more presentable.  (Hey, old habits die hard.)  But, I did not let my pride get in the way of a lovely evening drive with my husband.  Yeah me!

So, I admit it - I am a vain creature.  I want to look good - for myself, for my husband, for others around me.  I look forward to wearing my normal clothes, styling my hair, and putting on makeup.  Maybe a little pride is not such a bad thing. It is what gets me going in the morning; putting on a new change of clothes, showering when I can, washing my hair, walking around the house trying to get my strength back.  It is part of what motivates me to heal.

And that can not be all bad.