When I was 14, I was in my second year of lycee. In my class that year was girl, Lucie, who seemed to have everything pierced. Even places I didn't even know could be pierced! I'd never even heard of a bridge piercing at that point. She had one, and I was fascinated.
At A Glance Author Esme Contact esme_indigo@hotmail.com IAM Esme When N/A Artist Julien Studio Abraxas Location Paris, France She was a really nice girl, and her piercings suited her well. One day, which will always stick in my mind, she arrived to lycee with a small silver chain leading from the ring in her ear to the ring in her nose. I instantly fell in love with the style of the thing, and couldn't keep my eyes off her for the rest of the day.
I had never really considered getting anything pierced myself... After several horrendous experiences with jewellers and piercing guns, I was left with only one ear pierced, the right one, although the scarring in the left ear was bad enough to make it look as if it actually had a hole still open.
A few days after Lucy came to school with her chain on, I went to the local mall with a friend who was searching for a present for her sister, for Christmas. We browsed several jewellers' shops, and then my eye hooked onto a small stand that held nose screws. In an instant, it was as if something had clicked into place in my brain... I wanted to get my nose pierced.
Internet was already my main source of information. After browsing for only a few hours that evening, I came across BME. I quickly found my way to the nose section, and there, lo and behold, was the septum piercing... However, as much as I admired the septum, I was well aware that my parents, already reluctant about the nostril, hadn't even heard of the septum piercing.
After a first flat refusal by my mother, I was told to submit some documentation about the piercing. Documentation? Hey, I'd just discovered BME! Obviously that part wasn't going to be too much of a problem...
After heated discussion, I was finally allowed to get the piercing. The plan had originally been that I was to pay half, and the rest would be paid for by the very friend who had dragged me off to the mall on that fateful day. Unfortunately, she had badly broken her leg some time before, so it was on her hospital bed that I told her about the plan. She agreed, and gave me some money... But eventually my mother paid the rest, the darling.
I went to studio some time in early December, so I seem to remember. The studio in question was one I had chosen thanks to internet, and I had got immediate good vibes when visiting their website.
Actually we didn't really set out for the studio. We happened to be spending the evening in Paris, and I decided that it was now or never. So I tactfully informed my father of my plans. He didn't baulk too much, and we agreed to meet my mother near the Georges Pompidou Centre in the centre of Paris. I now know the exact location of the studio, and could probably make it there with eyes shut. But at the time, I was working from a measly map printed from the website. We got horrendously lost, then met up with my mother, by which time I was despairing of getting the piercing done that day.
But with her map-reading skills, all was not lost. She found the place in record time, in exactly the opposite direction of where we had been walking. I don't know whether it was instinct, but at first shot I had found one of the most professional piercings studios in Paris. As we trooped into the brightly lit entrance to Abraxas, stainless steel gleamed, glass dazzled, and a girl with even more piercings than Lucie, and stretched earlobes, came to ask us if we wanted anything. The plan up to then had been to "check out the place and maybe return some other time", in the words of my mother, but she must have been very impressed with the obvious cleanliness (I think she expected to walk into some sort of bondage dungeon), because she announced in a loud, clear voice that I wanted my nostril pierced. I nearly fainted with joy, while my father cracked jokes with the guys behind the counter, and then I was asked to choose jewellery.
Now while browsing BME, I had fallen in love with the look of the CBR, and as most of the experiences at that time mentioned that it was a better choice for healing and cleaning, I thought it was all good that I should have that from the start. However, the girl insisted that I choose a stud, and when I saw that there was an emerald green titanium one (Abraxas pierce only with titanium), I gave in. In retrospect I'm very glad she insisted, because I was to have trouble with CBRs later on...
We all trooped downstairs to the waiting area where, seated on stainless steel benches, we filled in all necessary paperwork. A few minutes later then a guy popped his head out of one of the frosted glass doors, and called me in.
The next part I can't remember in any particular order, but he asked me what type of jewellery I had chosen, took one out from somewhere, and asked me what side I wanted the piercing. By now I was seated on the very medical looking bed, and swinging my legs nervously, as I recall. He also asked me if I was allergic to iodine, which I had no idea about, but turns out I wasn't, since I guzzle seafood without any problems. I'm pretty sure he also looked at my nostril with a torch, to check out the veins.
He then cleaned my nostril inside and out with iodine on giant q-tips (a very pleasant experience), and marked my left nostril. I liked the mark, which was in the crook of the nose.
He got me to lie down, and after getting me to breathe deeply in and out, pierced me on the exhale.It wasn't painful as such, just very interesting: I could feel the needle going through all the different layers of tissue.
Insertion of the screw was a bit awkward, but not much more painful. He cleaned me up a bit afterwards, and when I sat up, made sure I wasn't dizzy or anything.
Actually I was slightly, but I was too excited to worry about it – so happy to have my piercing at last!
I walked (strutted?) proudly out of the room to show my parents. They commented favourably, saying it was in fact "very discreet", which it was.
Upstairs we paid, and then I skipped in the street, to an evening of fun.Throughout the evening, I got a few pleasant twinges form the piercing, reminding me of its blessed presence. That evening I got home quite tired, cleaned it carefully and rather painfully, and fell into bed.
The aftercare that the piercers had advised was washing twice a day in the shower with antibacterial soap, and rinsing with "serum physiologique", purified sea water in an aerosol can, usually used for cleaning the inside of the nostrils.
It quickly became clear that this regime was quite complicated, with the additional problem that the soap was very hard to rinse away from the actual inside of the nostril, and I usually ended up squirting soap up my nostril, which is quite an unpleasant experience, especially just before bed.
I ended up cleaning the piercing with diluted lavender oil, which worked a treat. The piercing didn't actually lymph for about a week, and then only very slightly.
About a month later, my piercing had healed extremely well. It looked great, and I had never felt so confident about my looks and myself. I was very happy about that, and loved it to death - literally, as you will see...
I had no clear idea of what shape the bend in the screw was, and one day, in a fit of curiosity, I decided to take the jewellery out in front of the mirror, just to see. It got it out with a twinge, gazed with interest at the screw and then put it back in. End of story. Or so I thought...
The next morning I was supposed to sit a mock exam at ten at school. At maybe six o'clock in the morning, I awoke, and put my hand to my nostril. The horror that I felt when I realised that the familiar little bump of the screw was missing was terrible. I frantically searched my bedclothes, and located the screw, but it wouldn't go in more than half-way.
Then comes the really horrible part of that morning.
I had just woken up, so I'll attribute subsequent actions to the pre-breakfast madness that afflicts the best of us. In my confused head, if I let the piercing close up totally now, my parents would never agree to my having it repierced. I had to get that hole open again, by any means. I got a needle from somewhere, didn't even sterilise it or attempt to, and proceeded to spend the next hour or so slowly shoving it back through my nose. At the time, I remember rating that long early morning of agony as one of the worst in my life.
After what seemed hours, the needle finally popped out inside my nose. I tried to insert the screw. Impossible, it wouldn't go in. It later turned out that I had repierced half the canal at a different angle, so that I was trying to force the screw into an open V shaped canal. I managed, however, to get an earring in, and it was still in when I tripped my way to the breakfast table, panicking about going to school with a huge earring poking out of my nose, but refusing to remove it.
When I returned from breakfast, I gave the screw another go. I still don't know how or why to this day, the larger gauge earring must have widened the hole or something, but the screw slipped in. Victory! I headed to school with a red, throbbing nose.
Miraculously, as well, nothing bad happened to the piercing. I continued cleaning it with diluted lavender oil, and it didn't become infected or have any problems whatsoever.
Where my problems over? The worst was yet to come...
I was still yearning for the CBR look. I really loved the discreet nostril stud, but the CBR looked much more..well...pierced. The stud looked as if it was just poised delicately on the skin.
While shopping in Paris, I went with some friends to the devil's chambers. Not that the devil resides in Paris, to my knowledge, of course. I went to probably one of the worst places to get pierced in the whole city, and we're talking about a fair-sized city. Now all I wanted to do was buy a CBR from these guys, since they were much cheaper than Abraxas. Before you roll your eyes, remember I was fourteen, not very wealthy, and had not spent that much time on BME yet. Surely cheaper was better, right?
Right.
The piercers I purchased my first CBR from were actually bad-quality piercing jewellery manufacturers, the kind of jewellery you find on market stalls at very low prices. Lots of showy acrylic, lots of lovely stainless steel of unknown quality, not a milligram of titanium in the entire place, and certainly no guaranties of quality. A few years before, they had suddenly improvised themselves as piercers, and opened several shops, well stocked with tinny jewellery, needless to say. Apart from anything else, they were extraordinarily rude, whereas the folk at Abraxas were extremely courteous and helpful.
I returned home with my 1.2mm blackline CBR, and proceeded to insert it after washing it thoroughly with antiseptic soap. It slipped in fine, and I went on my merry way.
Some days later, I caught a slight cold. I had had the piercing for about four months now, and the screw had never been a problem when blowing my nose, but I found the ring difficult to circumnavigate. As a result, it got bashed about quite a bit.
And slowly but surely, I developed the BUMP.
No big deal for any regular BME reader. You know it by heart. "Minimise the irritation, soak it, baby it, and be patient."
I had no idea about irritation, I thought my piercing had become infected or something. I left the ring in (in retrospect, I'm thinking "Ouch."), and POPPED the "spot".
In short, I did all the wrong things. Not only did I leave in the major source of irritation, the CBR, I also poked and prodded the bump several times a day, popped it with fingers, needles, and poured alcohol based disinfectant on it to get rid of the "infection".
I should have gone back to see the piercers immediately. But somehow I felt really guilty, that this was my fault because I had failed to take care of my piercing, and that they would give me a right tongue-lashing.
I should have put the screw back in. But my reckoning at the time, having to go to school with a visible bump/spot/infected piercing for all to see and comment upon (and comment they did!), was that the ring made the bump less obvious, because it was bigger than the screw, the ball of which would have been dwarfed by the bump.
So after crying, thinking myself disfigured and a laughing-stock for life, I stopped the alcohol disinfectant, and made the first intelligent move I'd made for a while.
Every evening, and pretty much anytime I had a minute to spare, I would grind up a chlorella tablet, mix it into a paste with water, and apply it to the bump.
Chlorella is a sweet-water algae, good for all sorts of things, and any search engine will teach you a whole lot more about it. In this case it was good, because like certain therapeutic clays, it has the property of absorbing toxins through the skin. In my case that meant the bump had gone down just that little bit every morning, when I washed off the Chlorella.
When the bump had gone down enough, I put the screw in again, which much have helped things enormously. Eventually, one morning, it happened. I pulled off the Chlorella poultice to find clear, white, marvellously flat skin underneath, albeit a little flaky.
>From then on the piercing was more or less all right, although there was a nasty build up of some kind of puss for a while, and I can remember pressing my nostril firmly between my fingers, to release a huge amount of the stuff.
Some time later, about a year actually, I got my septum pierced, and one night while cleaning it, took out my nostril screw and forgot to put it back in again. I only realised my mistake the next morning, and it had already mostly closed. I was not in any hurry to get it repierced, and for a long while there was a palpable lump in my nose, whether build-up of fluid, or scar tissue from my hellish repiercing, I don't really know.
So – In conclusion, choose your piercer well. I was incredibly lucky in that I chose them by complete accident, and they turned out to be extremely scrupulous about cleanliness.
In the event of a problem, don't hesitate to go back to them. They're the best able to help you, better than your doctor, in most cases.If it comes out, you can always get it repierced at the studio, probably for less than the first time, if you explain. Don't be stupid like I was and spend a hellish hour trying to steel yourself to shove a sewing needle through your nose. Apart from anything else, I could have ended up with a nasty infection.
Take care of your piercing. Remember, it won't get better if you pick at it! I learned that the hard way.