CrossRoads Farm

A Grand Adventure

17 June, 2005 - 8:37 am

From my Art Blog - 8 March 2004

Yesterday I went to Burlington to get my belly button pierced.

Up until now I’ve had the standard ear piercings. Just two holes in each ear. I barely felt the first pair when I had them done at age 12. But the second pair, done when I was 18 years old, hurt like hell and I decided to stop there. But then I got the idea to have my navel pierced. It kind of floated around in my brain for years. On Valentine’s Day D gave me a choice between the piercing or upgrading my Diaryland account. It took about a week of thought. But I went with the piercing.

So I put on my new pair of kicky low rise jeans and a new blouse and headed out. I stopped in Montpelier on the way to Burlington to get Linda. She wanted to pick up some new jewelry for her piercing, and she knew I was thinking of getting mine done so we made an afternoon out of it. Linda has her navel pierced but she kept telling me not to do it. “You won’t even believe how much it hurts!” She said. “I’d rather have another baby than get that done again.” I went with my instinct on this one. Of all the people I’ve talked to Linda was the only one that said it hurt.

We drove the hour or so to Yankee Tattoo. A little hole in the wall in downtown Burlington. I told the guy at the desk what I wanted and he handed me a release form:

Have you had anything to eat in the last four hours?
Have you had any alcohol in the last 12 hours?
Are you prone to fainting?
Are you a hemophiliac or prone to bleeding?
Are you sure you are not pregnant?
Do you have any communicable diseases?

I filled out all the information while they photo copied my ID and debited my account $35. The heavily tattooed gentleman at the desk pointed to the door to my left. “Go right on in, and Rob will hook you up.”

The room I walked into looked for all the world like the dozens of doctor’s examination rooms I’ve been in. There was a sink in the right hand corner. A padded table much like in a doctor’s office took up most of the space on the far wall. And there was a small table with a sterile tray on the top of it with the jewelry, forceps, etc. I must admit, I wish I’d taken a closer look at this tray because I can’t even describe the needle to you. The one thing about this room that I really should have noticed but didn’t was that the entire left hand wall was glass. Looking out onto the street.

Rob is a sight to behold. A fine looking man with a salt and pepper beard. He’s completely bald but his entire scalp, most of his neck, and his arms all the way to the wrist are covered with ink. He sports an amazing (to my eyes, anyway) array of piercings. His nose. Two on each eyebrow. Bars through the cartilage at the top of his ears…etc etc. Not to mention two plastic ‘plugs’ – for lack of a better term (I don’t know what they are called) through his earlobes. These pieces are at least ľ of an inch across. And looked to me to be painful to wear.

Rob is also a complete gentleman and a consummate professional. I felt reassured that this man was wearing so many piercings. I mean really. Obviously he knows a little bit about the process. Rob pointed out a hook where I could hang my jacket and purse. He invited Linda to come on in and have a seat. I hopped up on the table and he explained the process. He was going to clean my navel with a sterile solution. Mark it with a pen then do the piercing. We went through the details of that process for a minute and then we began. I was so calm and hardly nervous at all.

I carefully checked where he put the marks. I felt comfortable enough to ask him questions when I had them. Then I lay back on the table and pulled my shirt up a bit. We were casually chatting when he put the forceps on the fold of skin that he was going to pierce. I was in the middle of a sentence at the time and my voice didn’t even hesitate. Rob said, “If that didn’t pinch you’re barely going to feel this.” Then he asked if I was ready. I said I wasn’t sure. And I told him he might not want to tell me when he was going to do it because I might jerk. “No problem,” Rob smiled, “just put your hands up behind your head like your lying in the sun.” So I pulled my arms up. For an extremely brief moment I was aware of what a vulnerable position this was and then...I was fine. I had my eyes closed, kinda preparing myself for the pain and he said, “Hey, look here.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “You ready?” Somehow that eye contact relaxed me completely. And you know, that’s an truly odd thing for me to say.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Ok, Girl, take a deep breath with me.” We breathed in. “Now hold it for just a sec…….all right let it out slow and we’ll be done.” I started breathing out and the breath turned into a squeal of sorts. It hurt, but not nearly as much as having a deadpan doctor cauterize a fresh wound.
Rob laughed. “That was quite a squeak you let out there.” I can only imagine what it sounded like. He turned to get the ball that holds the hoop together. I peeked at my bellybutton. An odd sight really to find a ‘C’ shaped piece of steel sticking through your skin. And more so to have paid someone to do that to you.
While Rob put the ball on the hoop and cleaned the wound I asked him about his piercings. He’d done almost all of them himself – including the ones in his earlobes. Apparently he did those with a scalpel.
He told me to sit up but not to stand up yet. I sat up to look in the mirror and noticed the window. There were two women standing out on the sidewalk watching. So strange. I wasn’t embarrassed or uncomfortable or freaked out or anything. It somehow seemed to me to be perfectly natural.

Rob explained how to clean the area and make sure I didn’t get an infection. It will take 10-12 months to heal completely and another year to ‘toughen up’. I was also cautioned that it might look irritated during my monthly cycle due to a lowered white blood cell count. (You know, as if there isn’t enough shit going on with your body during those few days.) But he told me I could call anytime if I had a concern or a question. Then he asked me if I was feeling ok and I told him, “Well, I’ll be honest. I thought I would faint but I feel just great. And I love it already.”
Rob was visibly pleased, “No screaming or crying….I appreciate that.”
I smiled back and shook his hand. “Well, thanks so much, that was really fun.”

It wasfun. I mean right now it hurts a bit. Last night it was incredibly sore. And i have to be careful how I move and where the cat sits on my lap. It feels like a bruise right now. But I’m totally thrilled? Excited? ……stoked by the whole thing.

And it’s cute as hell.

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