I'm proud and utterly thrilled to say that my nose is now home to a dainty, yet badass little 12ga, 3/8" diameter steel pincher. How that little shiny came to be there is quite the arduous tale.
At A Glance Author Mixelle Contact Mixelle@bme.anon When It just happened Artist Ryan? Studio Puncture Haus Location Vancouver, BC After several years of waiting for my father to come around on the whole facial piercings issue, that final discussion and go-ahead were quite the victory for me. When I had first breached the issue at the age of 14 (I'm 17 now) I had only wanted a tiny nostril piercing, but my mature, reasonable essay and request was flat out denied and the ensuing conflict resulted in one very tense and silent week in my household. I was told that when I was 18 I could do whatever I wanted, but till then the answer was no. The issue rested until about three weeks ago, when I decided that after months of pining over-and of course, therefore researching- a well placed and tastefully adorned septum piercing, I would bite the bullet and broach the sensitive topic with my father again.
The perfect opportunity was served to me on a silver platter. It was a Saturday afternoon; my father had a day off from work and was lounging about at home and in such an obviously good mood that he watched cartoons with my younger brother and me. When he retrieved a pizza for lunch, I was struck with the notion that somehow this situation was a golden chance gifted to me by some unknown power for the purpose of obtaining this longed-for piercing. I waited for him to finish eating, thereby reaching maximum contentment, and I pounced:
"Dad, don't you think after waiting for three years in compromise, I can finally get my nose pierced?"
I braced myself for another abject refusal, but instead I almost went into shock when he appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then gave a subtle nod signaling that I should proceed with my argument. I shifted into logical/persuasive argument mode and launched into my list of reasons why I should be allowed to receive a piercing and to my surprise and delight he agreed with most of my arguments. Just when he appeared to be about to give me the permission I had long yearned for, I remembered a very important detail.
He thought I was still talking about a plain nostril piercing. Shite.
"There's just one more thing, Dad...I've changed my mind about the actual kind of piercing I want to get..." This was met by a guarded, suspicious glance and his careful question, "Then, where is this going to be, exactly?" I cautiously explained that it would still be a nose piercing, just it would go through the centre of my nose instead of one of the nostrils-
"You want to have something hanging out of your nose?" he deadpanned. I gave a sheepish nod, about to explain that it wasn't going to be as bad as the stereotype he was no doubt envisioning, but my attempts to assuage his doubts were drowned out by what can only be described as my father [i]lamenting[/i]: "OH GOD NO! You don't want that! No, no, no...Don't make me let you do [i]that![/i]"
The only response I could think of was to calmly tell him that I was aware that he would have a problem with it, but also that I would very much appreciate it if he would give it some serious thought. I left it at that and didn't bring it up again until a couple of days later. He told me that he just couldn't give his consent to a piercing that he found so distasteful, and that I could get a nostril piercing, "Take it or leave it." At this I nodded quietly, letting him leave to shower in peace but mentally remaining undeterred that this particular battle was far from over.
Later, over dinner, I stared at him intently as he ate, this being understood as my passive way of saying that his last decision hadn't been accepted and that I had more to say. When he was finished eating, he sighed and asked me what was up, knowing full well what I wanted. I proceeded to explain to him that although I understood his reasons for saying no, that I didn't think he fully understood my own reasons for wanting a septum piercing in the first place. I told him how much it meant to me as a symbol of my becoming an adult, how it would be a symbol of the growth my relationship with my father had undertaken over the last three years. I told him how much it would mean to me if he could trust me to make my own decisions, even and especially when they ran against his own deep seated prejudices. This would be so much more than a fashion statement or teenage rebellion.
He told me he'd think about it, that I could expect an answer by the end of that week. I waited a couple of days and gently brought up the topic, and he said he needed more time but that I would have an answer by the weekend. I was a little anxious about the whole thing, not only because I really wanted the damn piercing but because knowing my father, if I didn't ask about it, he would never approach me on his own about it. He would just pretend I had never asked about a piercing, which meant that if I wanted to know his answer, I had to be the one to initiate the conversation-the trick was, that if I pestered him too much, he'd get angry and probably just say no. It was torture the following Sunday evening, the weekend was essentially over and he had yet to say anything to me on the subject of my septum. He had been watching a hockey game I had been chatting with a supportive friend for moral support, so once a commercial came on I took a deep breath and very delicately asked if he'd come to a decision. He gave a long, resigned sigh.
"Yeah, I guess you can do it."
"Really?!" I asked in disbelief before he went on to say his, "this whole thing is against every fibre of my being," speech. I thanked him profusely and told him how much it meant to me, and then promptly began making plans for my impending date with a needle.
Two of my friends wanted to accompany me, and between us we figured that the best day to go would be Boxing Day, or December 26. I had already decided that I wanted to be pierced at Puncture Haus in Vancouver, which was only about 40 minutes away via SkyTrain and buses. Their website informed me that they were in fact having a Boxing Day sale, piercings were 50% off and jewelry was 15% off. In a couple of days, I would get my coveted new modification, and I wouldn't be paying an arm and a leg for it!
On the morning of the 26th, I met up with my friends and we journeyed into Vancouver. We actually missed the shop as the sign is only visible from one direction, but an extra half an hour and three stops for directions later we arrived. The shop is beautiful, clean and contemporary and the three piercers we met were professional and friendly. I told them I was here for a septum piercing; I signed all the paperwork and read the aftercare sheet before doing anything else as the piercer insisted. I was asked what kind of jewelry I wanted, and I had predetermined that a small diameter steel pincher was the only way to go. She showed me one such item in a display case, and on my confirmation asked what gauge I had been considering. I replied that 14 or 12 gauge would be sufficient, and she explained that they preferred to pierce with a 12 gauge, which was fine by me as I did not want to stretch it later.
That settled, the jewelry was autoclaved and one of my friends and I were ushered into the little piercing room. A different piercer from the one I had selected my jewelry with was going to do the actual procedure, and he was very friendly as we chatted about my job, his microdermals and why I chose a septum. I'm slightly confused about his name, though, I had assumed from pictures on the website that he was named Ruven, but my receipt says I was pierced by Ryan-a name that isn't mentioned on the staff page at all. At any rate, he sat me on his table and had me crane my neck back so that he could begin marking me for placement. Because of my angle I couldn't really see what he was doing, so when the gentian purple pen he was using turned out to feel quite sharp, you can imagine my confusion!
Ten minutes of marking and a quick check in the mirror later, he had me lay down with my head hanging down off of the edge of the table, thereby allowing him a nice view of my nostrils and me a nice view of the wall. He changed his gloves again and took the BIG-ASS needle (description provided by my friend, who could see more than I could at that point) and lined it up, sans clamps. He asked me to take some deep breaths; that he would pierce on the exhale. I relaxed and breathed a cleansing breath, feeling quite content and peaceful. I will mention that to my own surprise I didn't feel any nervousness or fear at any point in the process; in fact I had more butterflies when I was just asking my dad!
The piercer started to push the needle through, and it stung quite a bit. Looking back I think he must have met resistance, as I estimate it took about ten seconds to get the needle completely through and I could feel him working it a little. Overall, I would say that it was moderately painful, but far from the excruciating agony I had read of in many other experiences here on BME. It was probably a 6.5-7 on a scale of one to ten. I have a high pain tolerance though, and the piercer told me I didn't even flinch. Oddly enough, my eyes didn't water either, which I was somewhat expecting. I looked down (up?) at the needle and receiving tube through my nose, tribal style, and I felt ecstatically happy in a calm, peaceful way. I'm a bit disappointed that I was unable to grab a mirror in time to see it like that, but I forgot because I was busy marveling at how content I was despite how much it had hurt and was continuing to hurt. The piercer came back with the pincher and I felt some slight pressure as he slid it in after the needle, but I don't think it caused any pain of its own.
The left side, where the needle exited, bled quite a bit, and the piercer had to spend some time cleaning me up. I noticed that the left side also hurt significantly more than the right. I left the room with a huge grin, feeling like I had been hit in the nose with a dodge ball full of happiness, and showed off my new metal to my other friend and the female piercer, who were both suitably impressed. I paid and tipped, and my friends and I skipped off to go downtown and get some shopping done. The whole day, I found myself very aware of the airspace immediately surrounding my head, paranoid of potential elbows coming my way. It was also painful to laugh or smile too big, or otherwise move my upper lip. The ache came and went all day in 15 minute intervals.
That night I soaked it in Dead Sea salt water for 5 minutes, gently blowing bubbles to help irrigate it and loosen the crust. I went at it with wetted Q-tips afterward, and cleaned off quite a bit of dried blood. Since then I've cleaned it twice and soaked it once, and every time it appears to have bled more, but I'm not concerned. I've hit it a couple of times, leaving it hanging crooked but I just leave it and adjust it after soaking, when it's loosened up and moves without pain. I'm super paranoid of damaging it, and when it aches unexpectedly I have to remind myself that it's still very young before I freak out. Overall, I'm extremely happy with it and I can't wait till it's healed to experiment with different types of jewelry. I love my little pincher though, it's cute and dainty but still totally badass-it reminds my family of snake teeth! I feel that it reflects my personality perfectly, and it makes me feel so beautiful and confident when I'm out in public with it.