So, starting from the very beginning...
At A Glance Author norin Contact norin@vampirefreaks.com When A month ago Artist Roland Studio Tranceformations Location Nanaimo, B.C.
As we (Mum and I) left, I was already feeling nervous. The conversing filled the van with a bunch of tension, and general negative energy that wasn't really helping my demeanour. Trying to keep my mind linear, and on bright and happy thoughts proved fruitless to say the least. Not far now from Tranceformations the sitting butterflies in my stomach now started to get agitated. We had arrived.
"That was faster than I hoped."
We enter the shop, and mum goes to the counter first to sort out her tattoo, meanwhile I stand a few paces behind, taking deep breaths, looking around me in a pseudo panic, until it's my turn to talk to the counter person. She asks me what I want, to fill out a form signing my life away, for all of my money and my I.D. I barely walked out of there with anything left!
Everything signed, I now had a short wait ahead of me while my piercer finishes talking with his significant other. About this point, one of the tattoo artists comes out, and watched me, for what I'm sure was pure amusement. I was by far very visually nervous. Hands never ceasing movement, extremely pale, chuckling when I shouldn't be, et cetera; at one point he even commented that I indeed did look very nervous. Before long, she left, and he called me in; I dragged mum in just for the sake of mental stability at this point. If I couldn't think clear, I'd atleast make sure I wouldn't completely flip my lid. He introduced himself as Roland, started idle chit-chat. Asked if I was cold for only being in a t-shirt with the snow, and so on. Right away, the pressure, the anxiety melted away, and I felt very docile. Things continued their course, and he began to put out the utensils he'd be using, and then I did it.
I broke the sterile field, to pick up the needle in its package, to look at it. Evidently, my thinking wasn't very clear at all!
After apologizing a bunch, and realizing the error I had just made, I quickly kept my hands in closer, and away from anything that wasn't part of me, or handed to me. After rinsing my mouth for a while with a minty concoction, and feeling shame/like a complete idiot, aswell as a bunch more conversation between him and mum, the time had come. With the tiny, yet menacing needle in his hand, and my tongue clamped firmly, he asked me a few more times if I was all right, if I'd prefer to lay down for it, and such, all with a resounding "Nope, I'm fine.", mind you my pronunciation was a bit off.
"Okay, I want you to take a deep breath in for me."
And at the pinnacle of the inhale, I could feel the needle begin to penetrate the first few millimeters of tissue. As the oxygen within my lungs started to flow back out into the room, with absolute minimal pain, I could feel the piece of steel push its way through the centre of my tongue. A truly unique sensation, to feel such a thing without a hint of discomfort from the act. Then, a moment that seemed longer than it was - a pause. Surely no longer than a full second at best, I could feel the needle stop, and him press down harder as the tip broke through the film on the bottom of my tongue. Again, a truly bizarre and sublime feeling. Nothing I've previously done has ever felt remotely the same, especially since I've never cut through such a sumptuous amount of tissue, considering what was taking place. Another moment passed as he placed the jewelry ontop/into the needle, pulled it through, and screwed on the bead.
I'm going to use this opportunity to remark at just how fast the bead went on. Whenever I fiddled with the horseshoe that used to live in my septum, it would take upwards of atleast five minutes to get the bead back on; so how he managed to screw it in within the time frame he did still vexes me.
My tongue now released from the forestore forceps, I retrieved my now wounded muscle, and said the only fitting thing that I could muster.
"...Ow."
If nothing more than for comic release. Apart from the dim hilarity of what had just been said, the barbell also quickly schooled me on how it would feel to talk, and how I was going to have to compensate. (Especially for the swelling.) I hopped down from the... Examining bench? I suppose you could call it that, and immediately proceeded to enjoy the infamous rush that people experience after such an act.
A few more times Roland asked me how I was feeling, if I was light headed, if I was going to faint, et cetera, again, met with a happy, and a now highly intoxicated "Nope! I feel great."
Another big thanks to him, shook his hand again, and then made my way for the exit, excessively happy with what I had just gotten done.
The swelling lasted for about nine days total, to completely go away. By the second day, it was at full swing, and it sucked. To give a general idea of what it felt like, imagine the sensation you feel when you take a large swig of coffee that's too hot for said intake. Your tongue stings, all over, and stays that way for a couple minutes - perhaps for the entire day if you really chugged it, but none the less, still the tender, burnt feeling. That stayed with me for about a total of maybe five days. After that, things had settled down enough where I could attempt solids again, and pain was only triggered when something depressed the top bead.
So far, between 15-18 days have passed. Pain from the fistula is a rare occurrence, and I have begun to be more lenient with the aftercare steps, but still keeping up with them just to be safe.