I was 17 and the world was my oyster.
At A Glance Author Anonymous Contact Anonymous@bme.anon When A year ago Artist LaVern Clewley Studio Mind Grind Location Alpena, MI I had actually been dying to get a rook piercing for over five years, ever since I had been down to South Carolina to see my brother and his girlfriend at the time had one, which was when I fell head-over-heels in love with the thing. My mum had initially agreed to take me to get it done, but despite saying so, she never actually did. So, a couple of hours after watching my friend get her tragus pierced, I drove all the way out to my mum's house and insisted that she come down and sign for me the following Monday. After complaining about having to drive the whole *gasp* TWENTY miles to town, she gave in. I was overjoyed, to say the least.
That Wednesday finally rolled around and it suddenly struck me at about 2pm, two and a half hours before my appointment, that I was, in effect, a piercing virgin! Sure, I had been pierced in both ears by a gun at Claire's an excess of seven times over the past six years, but by god, never by an actual needle. I suddenly became quite terrified. Moreso over looking like an ass in front of my friend if I did something stupid as a result of some unbearable pain, as opposed to being terrified about the unbearable pain itself. When she had gotten her tragus done, there was a great deal of whimpering before the needle even went in, and when it actually did, there was an agonized scrunching of the face accompanied by a grunted, "Oh my GOD that hurt!" This kind of observation really is quite a put-off.
I had read a ton of experiences here about rook piercings over the previous five years, and, of course, they varied from "didn't feel it at all" to "I about died," so they were of little help when it came to estimating what I was about to subject myself to. Even though I typically am a glutton for pain and had practically made a hobby out of injuring myself all through junior high and high school, the thought that *this* pain was going to be infinitely more powerful and overwhelming than any other I'd experienced kept lingering in my mind.
I continued to be a discreetly nervous wreck for the next two and a half hours.
When we finally got into the piercing room with Vern, I actually found myself unable to quit grinning like a complete fool. I just sat there and grinned and giggled and continued conversation, all the while imagining the absolutely intolerable full-body knee-weakening pain that was right around the corner. Vern putzed around and ran through the usual piercing routine in what felt like slow-motion. I desperately wanted it to just get OVER with -- I felt like if I had to wait another five minutes I'd simply explode and the room would be filled with all these tickly, jittery little nervous butterflies.
..The thought of the pain itself was probably what was giving me the shit-eating grin, in retrospect, however, I was still terrified I was going to yell or thrash around or do something intolerably *stupid* in front of everyone.
So on went the clamp and in went the deep breath and when I exhaled the pain arrived...but it was not of the knee-weakening variety, it was merely a sharp pain and squeezing sensation in the itty bitty little area of my rook. There was no thrashing, no screaming and no crying...and the shit-eating grin remained on my face the entire time. And by entire time I mean what kind of seemed like an eternity, even though it was only a second or two, what with the laboriously slow sliding of the needle and crackling sounds of my ear.
I nearly floated straight to the ceiling with relief. But then I remembered the jewelry, notoriously the worst part of the whole ordeal. *dun dun dun*
However, the jewelry insertion was absolutely NOT the worst part of the ordeal, nor was it even a noteworthy part of the ordeal at ALL. In fact, none of the four times I've been to Vern since have I ever experienced any discomfort with the insertion of jewelry. Vern's just kind of a god like that, I suppose. In my book, anyway.
We then just kind of sat around and shot the shit with Vern for quite some time afterwards, and finally, several hours later, I was cruising happily out to my mum's house to show her my new piece of pretty.
Huzzah!
The healing period was pleasant and problem-free. I Bactined it regularly, babied it like I birthed it, and sea salt soaked it when it seemed to want it. Three months later when I got my other side done, we stretched it from a 18g to a 16g...however, that is an entirely separate story of its own.
By the way, if someone out there is reading this and is terrified of doing something piercing-wise, do it anyway, I tell you. The terror is almost one of the best parts and oh MAN will it feel great afterwards.