Random Wednesday

How many of us harbor some hidden guilt or shame? An event in our lives that we regret, a word we wish we could unsay?

When WK was six months old he was severely burned. He sustained a burn to his face that started at the left corner of his mouth, extending back along his cheek and jaw line, to just behind his ear.

He was taken by ambulance to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital Burn Center in Nashville, TN, where he stayed for two weeks before we could take him home. I slept on a fold-out bed in WK’s room the entire time he was in the burn ward.

For the next few weeks doctors waited to see how deep the burns were, and how well they would heal on their own. Once they determined that they were third degree, deep tissue burns and that he would require skin grafts, he returned to the Burn Center for the operation. 

A plastic surgeon sliced a small patch of skin from his right hip and tried to repair what damage to WK’s face that he could. WK remained in Nashville another two weeks before he was released. Again, I moved into his room during this hospital stay.

Later, whenever he took a bath or got hot, the graft site turned into a bright pink square, another visual remainder of his injury.

For the next year he had to wear a pressure garment – a glove-tight mask the covered his whole head with only an opening for his ears and face. The garment helped keep the developing scar flat and prevented it from puckering. Every month we went back to Nashville to have him remeasured and new garment fitted.

That was nearly 15 years ago and I still carry the guilt of allowing my baby to be harmed. I was not directly responsible for what happened, I did not do anything that caused it, I was not even there, but I was not able to prevent it. I blame myself for what happened… and probably will for the remainder of my life. Even now, I can’t speak about the accident in detail without crying.

No one - my husband, my daughter, not even WK – has at any time blamed me… no family, no friends… no one. But, I still come back to that guilt like an old scab, picking at it until it bleeds anew.

If the accident had happened to anyone else’s child that I knew, I would have been the first to say to that parent, ‘it wasn’t your fault’ or ‘ you can’t blame yourself.’ But, I can’t seem to extend that same compassion to myself, and after so very long, I need to. I. NEED. TO.

Of all the people dear to you in your life, you must show as much or more compassion toward yourself. You must learn to forgive yourself as you would even a stranger. Because guilt is like a cancer that you can never cure.

‘If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete ~ Buddha