WARNING: My aftercare regime was wholly evil. Do not do any of the things I did!
At A Glance Author LovleAnjel Contact LovleAnjel@bme.anon IAM LovleAnjel When Ten years ago or more Artist Mike Leatherman Studio Guilty and Innocent Productions Location Chicago, IL I had wanted to stick my body full of metal for many, many years. Blame it on my fondness for H.R. Giger as a child. I had my ears pierced multiple times at the mall (AUGH...when you're underage you don't have a big choice about where to go) so I could run wires through them. My parents were, of course, absolutely up in arms about this. I had home-pierced my third set of ear studs and had helped my best friend with hers, so I got doubly in trouble for that. So, understandably, when I asked my mom how she felt about my piercing my belly-button, I got a hard stare and "Are you trying to make me angry?"
So fast-forward to six months after my 18th birthday (I am nothing if not a scrupulously law-abiding individual), and I get a recommendation for a piercer from a co-worker at Starbucks. It was at a shop located on the north side of the city. The piercer shared the space with a tattoo artist who had the most fantastic, swirly tattoos I had ever seen. I had made an appointment a week beforehand. While the piercer very closely checked my license, I VERY CAREFULLY read the large consent form (I always read that type of thing closely—no clauses concerning my soul or firstborn allowed) and signed it. The piercer let me pick my own jewelry out, a grey hoop with a silver ball (which was probably not steel and thus not good to heal with). I paid and was brought back to the piercing room.
It was exceedingly clean. Paper covering on the chair, gloves, triclosan by the sink, everything nice and white. He marked the spot, washed the site down, and knocked back the chair. I watched him open the autoclave bag (the arrows were brown, just like they supposed to be) and pull out the equipment. I had a root canal two years earlier and had been absolutely fascinated by the procedure, so I was only mildly nervous (yes, I liked having a root canal done, I'm that weird). He clamped the area—extremely uncomfortable. I felt the needle go in against some resistance, move quickly, then hit resistance again, and I thought, oh it's going through skin, now my fat, now out the skin again. I don't remember feeling the jewelry go in, but I remember it looked really pretty. And I felt really happy.
I got my aftercare instructions, but declined to buy the antibacterial soap he was selling. I drove home essentially high off the piercing. That evening I hit a Walgreens and bought what he told me to get, which was Cetaphil and iodine. Cetaphil is not anti-bacterial. At all. It's for sensitive skin. I don't know if there was an anti-bacterial version I should have looked for, but I bought what I found. The iodine was a diluted solution sold in the skin-care aisle. From then on, I wore very low pants or folded over the waistband to keep it from rubbing or hitting the piercing.
After a few days the piercing became red and annoying. And bloated up. And maintained its red annoyingness. And exuded puss and dead skin shreds. So I went to my doctor (who always seemed a little matronly and harsh), who cluck-clucked and gave me a prescription cream which I used (after carefully reading that little packet of instructions and warnings that came with it). That cleared up the red nastiness. Assuming that the lack of any real antibacterial substances was the cause of my infection, I tossed the Cetaphil and bought some Dial and first-aid Betadine.
The aftercare I was given indicated I should wash the site twice a day in the shower, lathering the soap and moving the ring in and out of the wound at least ten times, then rinsing thoroughly. On many occasions, a tube of thin white tissue would come out with the ring, which I'd then pick off. I know now that this was the healing skin, and each time this happened I essentially reset the healing process. So it's no surprise that I experienced another infection some months later. I used the leftovers of the prescribed antibacterial ointment to clear that up.
At times I would use various deadly-to-single-celled-organisms substances as a supplement to the cleaning regimen. These included isopropyl alcohol (75%), hydrogen peroxide and tea tree oil. The first two actually damage new skin cells and prolong the healing process. Tea tree oil is not terribly great for you either (doubly so for me, since I'm allergic to it, but I was willing to try many things to stave off more infections).
The twice-a-day cleaning went on for six months, and then I cleaned once-a-day for the next six. Over all, I had only two major infections, although I had a lot of minor problems that could have been prevented if I hadn't assaulted myself so thoroughly. Since it finished healing, I haven't had any problems with it (what didn't kill my skin off apparently made it stronger). My hoop is a little tilted, but other than that looks quite fine. I have never caught it on anything, and never regretted it. My nephews have been absolutely fascinated with it. It causes them to check other people's bellies and their own for shiny objects. They've also tried to yank it out on occasion. I let them win our wrestling matches but they DO NOT get to yank on my piercings more than once.
I am a little tired of the jewelry that's in there, since I've had it for nine years. My experience made me hesitant to change it myself. I would like to size up to something a little bigger, and higher on the shininess scale. I don't know if that would make the tilt more pronounced or not, or increase the chance of rejection (my sister's navel ring migrated out within a year of her piercing). Overall it was an unpleasant experience, and one I am determined not to repeat, at least in terms of healing things properly. So now I have a "this is what can happen" story to tell if a sibling needs me to talk to their children about such things in the future.