Big Blue Marble*

*Addendum to Landscaping


Many people I know have a phobia about parts of their body. For Dan it's his ears, which are incredibly tender. Our dear friend Malcolm has a thing about his eyes. I'm lucky enough to have two "things": my eyes and my belly button. Eye exams bring high anxiety, but this blog is about my belly button. When we were newlyweds, Dan would put his finger in my belly button. I would shriek in terror and scream that I was about to unravel. When pregnancy pushed my inny belly button out, it was a constant source of concern.


But pregnancy was a long time ago, and apparently I didn't think through the full implications of how a tummy tuck would affect my belly button. For those of you who are unaware, during the procedure the surgeon untethers your belly button from it's current mooring and shifts it upstream where it looks completely natural and normal, and looks downstream toward it's now rehabbed neighborhood. The doctor literally stitches your real belly button into skin that had previously been somewhere inches higher on your abdomen.


During recovery I had a circle of stitches that I basically ignored. They were removed at two weeks post-op and the doctor was pleased with how it looked. I went back last week for another check-up. Once again, everything looked great, except, my belly button was shrinking. Really? I thought it looked cute. But no, not cute, it was going to vanish due to the contraction of the circular scar tissue. However, the doctor was not concerned, as this often happened and there was an easy fix.


"Go home and put a marble in your belly button. Tape it in place and leave it there overnight. And repeat until the shape settles in and the shrinking stops. Good? Great, see you in two months."


Dan quickly volunteered that he had a marble. Really? WTF? It's like Wally Cleaver at a swap meet. What grown man knows where he can lay his hand instantly on a blue cat's eye? I was even more delighted to find that he found it two years ago while trenching in a drain tile in our backyard, where it popped to the surface. It had been on a shelf in our bathroom of "old-shit-posing-as-antiques" ever since. Little did I know at that moment that it had more popping to do. He boiled it in a frying pan. The visuals never cease at the Villa Johnson. 


But, back to the subject at hand. I'm here to tell you that a marble either fits into your belly button, or it doesn't. And no amount of twisting, or antibiotic cream lubrication is going to get that marble to sit nicely in your belly button if the marble is too big. I'm a compliant patient. I wanted to follow the doctor's advice. He's the expert and he knows what he's talking about. 


I gave the marble one last push. And--pop!--it vanished. Yup, gone. Well actually, it looked like my belly button was about to give birth to a small blue baby, as about 1/8 inch of the marble was "crowning". And no amount of manipulation got the marble out. It was stuck. 


In a panic, worried that the marble was going to do some permanent damage or get sucked into my body, I had two choices.  Go to the ER, sit there for many embarrassed hours and have it extracted, or wait it out until morning, call the surgeon and have him fix it. He would at least understand, he's the one who told me to put it there! 


I covered it up with gauze and went to bed. At some point during the night it worked it's way out. I woke to find it gently held in place by the bandage. Thank goodness.


Since then, every waking hour, I've been acutely aware of my belly button. I can't bring myself to try the marble again, so I've substituted an ear plug. I go to sleep with my belly button packed and wake up fully aware that there is a foreign object in my remodeled belly button. I'm aware, but fortunately, can't hear any complaints.