This is a really gross, offensive, post today. If you have a weak stomach, come back tomorrow. I don't usually write about really disgusting things, but I'm rushing off to a lengthy pre-op appointment today and have very little time for writing. Also? Quite honestly, I'm so repelled by this story, I have to share.
Last March I went to Santa Barbara for a weekend and I came back with a new piercing in the upper cartilage of my ear. I blogged about it at the time. I even shared this picture with you:
Very pretty, yes?
I've never had cartilage pierced before and the directions for after-care were quite specific. Disinfect the piercing twice daily. Under no circumstances is the earring to be removed prior to the 12 week point.
I've been absolutely religious about putting the alcohol formula they gave me on the new piercing twice a day to ward off infection. What no one told me prior to the piercing is, a cartilage piercing hurts for quite awhile. Not the piercing itself, but if you bump it while brushing your hair, or if someone (ahem!) at PT is massaging your neck and whacks you in the ear … you just might yelp.
(Not to complain about neck massages, because, um … yeah.)
I did have to remove the earring twice though. Both times hair had gotten wound around the back of the earring post and hopelessly tangled on it. I removed the earring for a mere matter of minutes, cleaned it, and put it right back in.
I shower every day, did I mention that? And I wash my hair daily too.
I tell you all this so you will realize, and understand, I have good hygiene. Because … because, something horrifying, nauseating, and vile happened this week.
(I've always been good with descriptive words. Did you appreciate that last paragraph?)
(I also crack myself up. Like right now … I'm thinking I'm funny. I bet that's annoying.)
(And once in awhile? I over utilize parentheses. Have you ever noticed that?)
My cartilage piercing started hurting. At first it was mildly annoying. I thought, perhaps, the hole was getting infected in spite of my rigorous routine with the alcohol solution. I started using the solution three times a day instead of two. My ear hurt more.
The next day the pain increased. And then, the day after, it increased even more. Thoughts of having to remove the earring forever began repeating themselves in my head. Finally, the pain became so intense I knew I had to give up the piercing.
I went to our master bathroom where I have one of those big magnifying mirrors. I used it to help me find the earring backing on my very inflamed ear. I removed the earring and … and …
My piercing hole gave birth before my very eyes to an abomination. It literally pushed out a .. thing .. a glob … a monstrosity that looked something (but not exactly) like this:
Mind you, this did not come out of my ear hole, it came out of the cartilage piercing site. It was colossal, it was humongous, it was repugnant.
I named it Baby Jane.
I don't know if I've ever been so grossed out by my own body.
I was horrified.
I promptly washed my ear with more of the alcohol solution. I inspected the piercing site and it looked perfectly fine. I washed the earring itself with more of the cleaning solution and replaced the earring right back into my ear.
The pain was instantly gone. My ear is fine.
My hole had just been in labor. My piercing was having contractions apparently, and I didn't even know it could do that.
In some weird way it reminded me of the day our bird, Einstein, laid eggs. We thought Einstein was a male bird for several years. One day he started acting up and became downright mean. The next day he laid eggs. After the eggs were laid he/she became a reasonable and nice bird again. We had to rethink everything we thought we knew about Einstein.
Once my hole gave birth to Baby Jane, everything was fine again.
(See, the bird and my cartilage piercing are practically the same thing.)
Except … except, I've had a hard time sleeping every since all this happened. My nights are haunted by terrible images of Baby Jane emerging from my body.
© Twenty Four At Heart