I got my tongue pierced the day I finished my tattoo. I had a little extra money in my wallet, was there anyway, and I was anxious to try a "real" piercing (other than my ears). I figured that a tongue is fairly socially acceptable, and easy to hide. For some reason unfathomable to me now, but important at the time, I also wanted it to be a fairly large gauge. I guess I wanted something different to the run-of-the-mill piercings – who knows?
At A Glance Author Oopps Contact Oopps@bme.anon IAM Oopps When Three months ago The piercer decided that the largest gauge he would suggest piercing it at was an 8ga, which was also what I wanted – or so I thought. I went back and forth for a while, as he warned me it would hurt more and take longer to heal (and be more expensive) to pierce at 8ga. But he said the swelling would be about the same and I did want a big piercing. Sure, I could always stretch, but 8ga was small enough I could downsize too. I almost changed my mind when he got out the needle, which looked HUGE, but eventually went through with it.
He had me rinse out my mouth with Listerine, then marked on my tongue where he would pierce it. The location looked fine to me, and so I stuck out my tongue and he clamped it. Not fun. But every experience I'd read on BME said the clamps were the worst, and if that was true, this wouldn't be so bad.
Then the needle. I suppose I could have closed my eyes, but instead I watched this huge needle being pushed into my tongue. The clamps definitely weren't the worst part. I had no idea what a piercing would feel like (my ears were gunned – I know, not good) and so was expecting a much faster, more of a stabbing pain rather than this slow stinging/burning sensation. My eyes were watering and I think I tried to pull my tongue away from the needle, but the clamp held it there. He then told me not to move my tongue at all while he got the jewellery in and guess what I did? Needle came out, jewellery didn't.
He told me he would have to repierce it, but first he would have to reset the clamps. I tried to swallow some of the blood running from the hole in my tongue, wishing the endorphins would kick in. He reclamped my tongue and asked if I was alright, though it's rather hard to answer with a clamp on your tongue. I7m rather glad I couldn't speak, because, if I could have, I would have been out of there as fast as I possibly could. As it was, I just sat dumbly and watched in horror as he picked up the needle again.
If anything, the second time hurt worse. Like a burning poker being slowly pushed through my tongue. My brain was crying that a tongue piercing was supposed to be one of the less painful piercings. My eyes were watering like crazy, blood and spit were running down my chin and I was shaking all over. After what seemed like an eternity, the bar was inserted and the clamps removed.
I tried to stand up, but got so dizzy I thought I would fall. MY whole body was shaking and I must have looked frightful. I got a glimpse of my pale and bloody face in the mirror when I looked at my tongue and it was scary. The piercer got me to sit down and got some juice for me to drink to try and get my blood sugar up a bit. He also gave me some tissues to clean up my face and some water to wash the blood out of my mouth. Talking seemed strange (I could hear I was slurring my words) and my tongue felt weird in my mouth. Little did I know this was just the beginning of the ordeal.
I didn't try to eat when I got home, knowing my tongue was too swollen. I just went to bed and slept. The next day, I woke up and my tongue felt huge. Eating was impossible – I couldn't chew or swallow. Forget talking, no-one could understand me. And my tongue was all sorts of wonderful colours – blue and purple bruised. I had a work dinner that night, a formal dinner at a nice restaurant I probably would have enjoyed, had I been able to eat it. I spent the night nodding and hmm-ing and hoping no-one noticed my speech, though I'm sure they did. I also had this constant paranoia that one of the balls had come off, and found myself checking in the bathroom that they hadn't many times. With the first full day behind me, I thought I was in the clear. This wasn't fun, but I could handle it.
Day two (Monday): Everyone wondered why I was so quiet until a friend figured it out and told me to show her my tongue, which was followed by a billion comments, mostly "It's huge!". Still couldn't eat and my speech was horrible. "Friends" took great delight in making me talk just to laugh at me... words such as "with" (came out "wiss") and "thesaurus" ("susurrus") gave them special delight. I ended up sucking on the ball a lot – I had a lot more saliva than normal, and so I either had to suck on the ball in my mouth or drool everywhere.
Day three: The damn thing was driving me crazy. I fantasised about taking it out so many times, but was determined not to let it beat me. I remember being so excited when managed to eat a piece of bread. My tongue was bleeding by the end of it and it took about half an hour, but I was happy. Still couldn't talk at all, and still trying not to drool.
Day four though seven: I had timed it badly. I had to go to an overseas conference on day four, and I still couldn't talk. I'm sure everyone there thought I had some weird speech impediment, and didn't understand half of what I said. It was also around this time I started waking up in the middle of the night with a dry mouth and my tongue burning. It hurt, badly. I would suck on some ice until I feel asleep, only to wake up with the same pain the next morning. This could partly be due to using my tongue too much. I had to speak at the conference, and at the end of the first few days my aching tongue was bleeding from so much talk. But when it was time to go home, I was eating normally, although talk was still hard. I suspect this was as much due to the length of the bar as anything else.
Day fourteen: I still couldn't talk, but only because the bar was too long. I went to have it changed to a shorter one, at a different place to where I pierced it. I told the guy that I needed an 8ga bar, but when he took the one out of my tongue, he measured it and found I had had a six gauge in there the whole time. I still wonder how that happened. With the new bar in, I could talk and eat fine – it felt healed.
Three months on: I love my tongue piercing and am very glad that I chose to pierce at a larger gauge now. It was worth it. At the time, though, it was the most painful and irritating piercing and I hated it. You wouldn't believe how often I wished I had never done it. That first week was pure torture, maybe just because I like to talk. Would I do it again? Yes, but it wasn't pleasant.
A few tips if you do want this piercing, though. Think about the timing, as you won't be able to talk for a week or two. Plan it accordingly. You will need patience and lots of soup, cold water and ice that first week. I would recommend saline solution as aftercare, which I switched too after the mouthwash discoloured my tongue – look at safepiercing.org for more information on this. And be warned, you will drool in your sleep.
Good luck and happy piercing.