I'm not sure where this experience fits into BME, but this is the account of my earlobes being sewn back up, and the gut-wrenching terror involved in seeing my ears look like pineapples. A Hem...
At A Glance Author questrocks Contact questrocks@bme.anon When Two years ago Artist fails me Studio plastic surgery Location oklahoma city I began stretching my ears in 1998. It began as a way to fit it better jewelry, and I just never stopped. Along the way, various thing slowed me down, such as: jobs that just didn't understand, going to basic training for the Army (a job that REALLY didn't understand, etc. But I loved my ears. I have(had) connected earlobes, and they were quite small. So when I began to stretch, everybody said, "oh, you can stretch, but I wouldn't go past half-inch." and so on. But I just took my time and stretched to the next size anytime I found jewelry I really liked. Consequently, I found myself at 1 inch at the end of my journey, with plenty of lobe and a nice looking butterfly effect on my ears. A couple of larger sadhu's completed out a great setup that I am really proud of. But all this is inconsiquential, because that is not this story.
In January of 2003, I decided to re-enlist in the Army. Now, I know that is not the popular thing to do among the modified, and I don't expect a slap on the back or anything, my inner sense of patriotism and the knowledge that my brothers and sisters in arms were going to war without me, really bothered me. So I decided to re-enlist and go the Europe. Now since I am a college educated type individual, the military told me to go to Officer Candidate School. My wife by the way, hates the military with everything that is holy. She said "no". But to leave the option open after i spent some more time enlisted, i decided that i need to "gasp" sew my ears shut. This is where that journey begins...
I worked for a well established shop in Oklahoma City, on a street with a 2 and a 3. If you know where it is, then you know. One of my colleagues had large lobes that were in danger of breaking on one side. We all called it "Hank's Lobster claw". Henry was at a stand still until he found this famous plastic surgeon that fixed his ear. It was great, one day his ear is in serious danger of splitting, the next, it's cut, sutured and on it's way back to bigger and better things. So needless to say, this "surgeon" came highly regarded.
I contacted their office on the north side of the the city, and made an appointment for a consultation. My appointment day came, and I came down to talk to her. They asked me all kinds of questions, general trying I figure to un-mind fuck me. But when I finally spoke to the plastic surgeon, all I had to do was mention that this was for the Army, and she all but cleared her calender to the next millenium. Great lady, clean office, and she even said, " Why come back? I can do it right now." Now, if anyone has worked with a "regular surgeon" plastic or other type, this kind of service is unheard of. You have a consultation, and then you make an appointment weeks, if not months down the road. So I was jazzed, but immediately really nervous.
I started to ask all kinds of questions about the actual procedure. How does it close, what is the healing, loss of tissue, chance of necrotizing and so on. She was impressed that I even knew the questions to ask. Most women don't even blink before getting implants. So this is how the procedure breaks down...
First is cleanup with an anti-microbial, followed by a local. She gives me a couple of shots, I think it was Lidocaine, and waits for it to kick in. Then comes the scalpel and scissors. The ring of tissue that used to be my piercing was cut out, so that there would be a surface to heal together. So with a raw hole cut out of my earlobe, then she starts to suture it all up. Since she gave me a local, I felt nothing but a broken heart to lose my gorgeous ears and all those years of hard work. I couldn't feel any pain, but it felt like she was cutting and sewing cardboard directly attached to my head. A sawing sound was predominant at the beginning, and the oddest was the sound of the sutures going in. All in all, it took about 15 minutes per ear, to undo what took me 5 years to accomplish. I got out of the chair, thanked her profusely, and went to my car without even looking at my ears. I couldn't bring myself to do it.
In the car, I looked in the rear-view mirror and almost past the fuck out. My ears looked HORRIBLE! Swollen, bloody, with stitches and all kinds of nastiness going on there. I shit you not, my ears looked like fucking pineapples. My alpha-male self just started to cry. I drove back to my house and the loving comforting arms of my wife, Tammy. She said it would all be okay, but nothing can even come close to describing the loss that I felt. Liken it to losing and appendage that you are really attached to. Plus, I felt like I had given up on myself and who I really am. Not some gung-ho, GI Joe Real American Hero Guy. It sucked hard.
My ears, suprisingly, healed up well. The swelling went down in about a week and a half, and I took the sutures out myself. Because my time stretching my ears helped the tissue in my ears grow, there was no real loss of skin in my ears and they look close to what they did before. The only thing that I notice, is a small spot in the middle of dead tissue, and a line down my left ear that looks like I got an earring torn out in some ghetto brawl. But it's all connected and looks good.
As soon as I get out of the Army on August 8th, 2006, I'm going to the nearest reputable shop that i know does procedures and I am going to get my ears cut back open. You can count on another story to follow. I will not rest until my ears are happy again....