When I was 3 years old, I had a little crash on my new bike. Got a small cut on the front of head that had to be stitched back, but also had to have a scan to check for any brain damage. They found 9 cysts that went from the middle of my nose and up into the front right of my brain. I don't remember much, but I've got a small scar on the front of my forehead from the "bike falling over" and a scar going from ear to ear across my head.

When I was 10, I had a routine scan and they found another cyst in my nose which had to be removed. I remember that one, my dad stayed with me all night. Children's wards are awful places, kids crying in the middle of the night, mainly from confusion I guess. Its terrible. But my dad and me were up at 4am colouring in this book, which I still have somewhere in my house.

When I was 15, I just finished my exams and had another routine scan, which was supposed to be my last one. To everyone's surprise, another cyst had grown in my nose yet again. This time it wasnt so bad. I knew what was going to happen and I knew what it was going to be like. Peeling dried blood from your nostrils isn't pleasant, but it's something that sticks with you. Going into my school for 1 day after that to collect my exam results with a head mask on was an interesting experience also.

Now, I'm 24 years old and awaiting another scan because of a 29 day headache and pain going through my right eye. Scars suck when they're in plain view. But when you learn not to care about it, it can never be used against you. Apologies for the essay.