Smaug the Magnificent

The things we inherit from family are fascinating. Looks, laughs, behaviours, skills, talents, and all manner of mannerisms and movement that we learn, imitate and adopt.

Then, there are the physical things. Eye colour, hair texture, freckles, height, body type, the shape of our face…it goes on and on. Some things are subtle, and others are acutely similar.

When I was in my very early 20s, I realized I had inherited something that I didn’t want. There it was, on the back of my right calf. A varicose vein.

Dang it. It was just like my mother’s – hers had been treated just after our youngest brother was born. I remember staying at our grandparents’ house when it was done. She was thirty years old then. Years later it was re-treated.

“I am the Lord of Esgaroth, King Under the Mountain!”

I knew this thing wasn’t going to just go away, absorb into my body. At first it was noticeable, but not too bad, but over time, it grew. I called it Smaug the Magnificent, after the dragon in JRR Tolkien’s The Hobbit. Smaug was probably the earliest villain in my life, as Dad read me Tolkien’s stories before I started school. I loved Smaug for some reason – there was something about this character who had hoarded gold, and slept on it and in it, that drew you in. Dragons are like that.

But, the Smaug that protruded from my right calf was more difficult to feel intrigued by. I was mostly annoyed and embarrassed. The name was just a way of making it not bother me as much.

Smaug made it so that it was very difficult to find boots that did up over my calf. Smaug looked like a bunch of grapes that had fallen down inside my skin.

I felt self-conscious wearing shorts…or a skirt. I adopted capris heavily when they became popular again. I wore black tights a lot, even if it was a touch too warm for them, just to smother Smaug.

Smaug was something that I noticed a lot, but that others didn’t necessarily. It’s funny how there are thing we feel so self-conscious about, especially the physical ones we can’t do anything about. Smaug also hurt.

“I am the desolation of Smaug! The terror of the North!”

When motherhood entered my life, I was recommended to wait to have it treated. Time went on. I cared a little less about how Smaug looked. I just put on the bathing suit. I just wore the shorts. I just didn’t buy the boots that didn’t fit. Or, when possible, I had them stretched by a shoemaker.

About seven years ago, I finally got a call to see a surgeon. Smaug’s departure became a pending reality.

“You dare to challenge me? Your arrogance will be your downfall!”

Alas, my gall bladder had other plans….this time like my grandmother before me, mine had to be removed.

Smaug remained in residence.

Years passed and a new surgeon’s office called, now tasked with Smaug, as the heavier first years of the pandemic were past. I saw the surgeon and plans began. I had instructions. In May of 2023 they called. It was a Monday. Surgery would be Friday.

“Your legends are false! As false as your hope!”

I had covid.

‘Oh, then it won’t be possible, and we can’t call you for another seven weeks…’ I was told. I was so upset.

The first week of August they called back. How about August 18th? My heart sank. There are two days of the school year that I truly cannot miss work – orientation for incoming students. I explained to the woman on the phone that they could call for any other day of the year, I’d come in on Christmas, whatever it took!

The call came about a month ago. I had to laugh when the scheduled date was my mother’s birthday. By the time you read this, I should be at the hospital. I hope that everything has fallen into place. Smaug has become like the wild ferret that seemed like a good pet at the time, one that was tolerable, and now feels like a pest.

“Your little thieves cannot hide from my sight!”

I wonder what my leg will look like, with a few scars, but less one cluster of Concords? I will be interested to see, and with the discomfort that has worsened, I really don’t mind what the result is – I will wear the bathing suit, and the skirt, and hopefully even the tall boots, whatever the look.

“I am the greatest dragon of this age! None can compare!”

Okay, Smaug, settle down. I’ve had about enough.

“I am a mighty

fire-breathing

dragon and you are nothing!” Whoa there, take it easy, I’ve let you be a bit rough on the old selfesteem, but now you’re really getting carried away.

“I am far more powerful than any of you can fathom!”

I think I’ve been letting you think that for a little too long, and believing it myself.

“I am almost tempted to let you take the precious Arkenstone…. Almost.”

Oh, Smaugy, you old nut, it’s okay. It’s time to go.

It’s important for us to work through and shed the things we inherit that we just don’t need or want.

I will remember you though. I’ll remember what it looked like for you to appear, grow in power.

Or, if you prefer,

“I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassessably Wealthy. I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them.”

All quotes from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey by JRR Tolkien, the voice of Smaug, and lastly, Bilbo.

PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MUM!