At A Glance
Author	strawberry
Contact	strawberry@bme.anon
IAM	strawberry
When	Three months ago
Artist	Adrian
Studio	his house
Location	North London

I'm an avid reader of BME experiences. I work at my local piercing studio. I'm on IAM a lot, and have many friends who share my love for modifications.
This experience, however, proves that you can never educate yourself too much, and that even if you think you know, chances are you know less that you imagine.

It all starts in December 2005, when I speak to someone who mentions an uvula piercing. He doesn't have it, but he's heard about it and would like to know whether it's possible and what happens if things go wrong. We're at the studio, so I, unable to answer his questions, ask Manu, my boss, but she can only explain him some basic things about anatomy, gagging problems and technical difficulties, stressing that she has never performed such a piercing and would prefer not to for the time being.
The customer is happy enough. I, on the other hand, am not.
That precise night I start looking for uvula info, on BME, on Google, on medical sites. There's not much, I have to admit, but there are experiences and pictures of people who've tried it, so it is possible, after all. By reading their experiences on BME I realize that it's not so uncomfortable for everybody, although it is not a piercing for the squeamish and nervous, an I am a bit of both. No, I don't think I will ever have it, I say to myself.

I leave the uvula at the back of my mind for a while, then one day, as it's happened with all the mods I didn't think I'd have (septum, streched septum, VCH, cheek etc), I decide I want an uvula piercing, and I want it badly. I mention this to my boss at the studio, asking her to do it for me. She doesn't say yes, but promises to investigate for some time into the procedure and the let me know.
After one week or so I bring up the subject again and she says she doesn't it's a good idea and that she'd prefer not to do it. Not wanting to push her into something she doesn't want to do, I decide to wait. In the meanwhile, I apply for a MA in London and when my application gets through, I'm invited for an interview.
I love London, I love the fact that my application is being considered, but I love the number of studios that are London-based.

When I set a date for my trip to the UK, I ring my friend Adrian, who has his own piercing studio in the capital, and arrange to see him when I'm there. He's a dear friend, the one who's helped me through my tongue splitting (taking me to A&E, mopping up blood, supervising..), as well as being a great artist. As I make arrangements to have lunch with him, I also mention my intentions to get my uvula pierced. Has he ever done it? Would he consider doing it? Would he consider doing it on me?
His first reaction isn't what I expected. Yes, he has tried it -even on himself- but doesn't really recommend it. Pleaaase, I implore, as I know that if Adrian doesn't do it there are few chances other people will. He's wild and experimental, and he's not put off easily. Besides, after these two experienced, talented people advising me against it, I wouldn't feel safe doing it somewhere else, less reputable and more money-oriented, who puts mod-before-customer.
Adrian is not for ruling things out completely, though, as says that, if I really want this piercin, he can try.
He advices to test my gag reflex with a cotton bud or with a clam, to see how much of it I can control and tolerate.

Only three weeks away from my trip to London, I follow Adrian's suggestions, testing my gagging on a daily basis, with a cotton bud, with a clamp stolen at the studio, and with other long, thin objects that can reach the region. The reflex is quite strong, if I'm honest. I have to be very careful not to touch my tonsil area, nor to go too close to the beginning of my throat if I don't want to throw up or cough violently. However, as time goes by and I feel accustomed with the procedure, especially if I relax enough, the gagging isn't as bad as it used to.

Once in London, my interview went well, I got an offer from the university I'd applied to, and was so happy that I decided to treat myself to a large Thai lunch, washed down by quite a few celebratory vodkas with the friend who's accompained me there, Sharif Fuelled with alcohol, hyped up by the joy for my acceptance, I decided that it was really a perfect day to go and surprise Adrian at his studio, so that he could pierce me there and then, without any more delay. It didn't matter that we'd scheduled our lunch for the next day and my piercing two days after, before I would be on a plane home again.
Adrian seemed happy to see me and congratulated for my offer. However, he said he was fully booked for that afternoon, but if I really wanted I could go back to his place than night and he would pierce me then. He preferred the privacy of his home, where he take his time and he tends to pierce his friends at home anyway, so it didn't make a huge difference. Disappointed for not having a bejewelled uvula yet, but happy nonetheless, I went for more drinks with my friend, trying to kill time before 7, when Adrian, my friend and I would walk back to his and pierce me.

Looking back, I realize that having that much to drink before a piercing was a silly idea. But I was excited and wanted to celebrate, so drank my way through the afternoon, even though I don't really drink, and certainly don't binge drink at 4 o'clock of a Wednesday afternoon.
At 7 we went to see Adrian again, and went to his place, which was within walking distance. I was pretty drunk by then. Not so drunk I couldn't walk, and sober enough to tell jokes in semi-coherent way, but I'd drunk too much. Also, the heavy lunch was beginning to take its toll on my stomach, not used to oily food after years of dieting.
I reckon Adrian shouldn't have pierced me on that night, but I guess he didn't want to disappoint me, and I probably did push things too much.
He arranged everything on the table -needle, cbr, antiseptic, penlight, and a box of sterile gloves. He made me sit on his dentist chair -yes, he has one in his living room, must be professional obsession or something- and I opened my mouth so that he could look at my uvula and at my anatomy.
I have a small mouth. Manu had problems piercing my tongue-web because of that, but then again Manu is a delicate, petite creature with hands so small and thin, doll-like. Adrian is one big man, with lange hands and no matter how controlled and skilled he is, and controlled and skilled he is, it was clear this piercing was going to be tricky.
After checking my uvula and my mouth for some 15 minutes, Adrian tested my gag reflex himself. Things seemed smooth enough. My initial euphoria had faded, and I was calm and detached. I felt good and relaxed. I trusted Adrian. Adrian trusted me, too.

We felt ready to go on. His idea was to clamp my uvula, insert the needle held by another clamp, then remove clam, needle and other clam and isert the jewelry. To date, I'm not sure if this makes sense, or if there's a better procedure. Given the size of my mouth and Adrian being the piercer, I let him has his way, aware that he was doing this is a favour, and that it was a difficult task.
So he went, clamp on my uvula, then needle in. It didn't hurt, just a weird sensation, and I was petrified, scared of moving in case I hurt myself somehow. I'm not sure, but for a second I must have though, Is that it? Why all the fuss?
But it wasn't a feeling to last for long -the moment Adrian tried to put the jewelry in, removing the needle, he must have gone too deep, or it must have been the alcohol, combined with the adrenaline and with the Thai lunch, but I threw up all over him.
You can imagine his horror and my embarasment -the needle stuck in my mouth was the last thing on my mind, if I'm honest. By then, the needle, delicately inserted in my uvula had slipped off, washed away by a sea of sick. Ok, too much information here.

After the initial horror, Adrian got himself back together, and helped me to the toilet to get washed. We washed, he changed into clean clothes and lent me a pullover to replace mine and he made me a cup of tea.
This is how my much-awaited uvula piercing adventure ended up, miserably and painfully.

My uvula was not damaged, nor my throat and mouth were injured, although things could have gone much, much worse -probably nothing life-threatening, but a needle in your cheek or in your tongue is never nice, especially if it is the result of an unplanned piercing-related accident.

Adrian and I still laugh about it, and luckily he could see the funny side of it, but I still cringe when I think about it.

Disclaimer: As a general rule, don't drink before you get pierced. Alcohol doesn't help the healing process, plus it can make you do stupid things or dangerous ones, simply because it reduces your perception of risk. Always seek a piercer you trust, possible in a good, clean studio. Beware of people who pierce at home. Even if piercing in the living room can be done quite safely by an expert, most people aren't expert to begin with, and the risk of infection, injure, contamination (cross or otherwise) should not be underestimated. Least but not last, be extra-careful with procedures that are not mainstream -if something has not been done many times it doesn't mean it is not possible, but do your research carefully and educate yourself (and your piercer, if you can) before anything unusual.

The bottom line is, if it sounds stupid, looks stupid and doesn't seem like a good idea, just do something else.