We are more than the skins we wear, and yet we are still these bodies we were born into. We're attached to them in both like and dislike.
The fire burned away bits and bunches of my flesh. Was I too far gone? Was their too much lost? How much flesh can you lose and survive? But medicine is miraculous and the doctors harvested healthy tissue from my back, torso, and even my left foot. They used it to grow more...
What skin was saved from the fire saved me, pieced together over both of my legs. A new sheath.
I am not the same person I was, and my skin bears witness to the change.
It took seven procedures to complete the grafting. They used cadaver flesh to fill in the negative space while fixing me. The flesh of the dead helped heal me. Those dead had families and loved ones. I feel such gratitude for the lives lost that enabled my rescue.
I light candles and leave offerings to their spirits, and those of their ancestors.
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