It has been 12 weeks since I got my nose pierced. This means that the wound has finally healed and I am allowed to take out the temporary, straight stud (which stabs me in the middle cartilage part of my nose any time I blow it) and replace it with a proper one with a curved stem. When the piercing girl told me this at the time, she said brightly “Keep it in for 12 weeks till the wound is healed, then you can change it”. What she did not say was “Oh, by the way, you will need some kind of surgical instrument and a dose of morphine in order to do this”.
Bravely, I sat down at the table with a small mirror and nerves of steel. I pulled the dart-shaped stud out. It stuck halfway, owing to the fact that it was thicker at the bottom than it was at the top. “Hmm,” I said nervously. Sister wandered over, intrigued. “Try twisting it round and round. Like a corkscrew.” she suggested helpfully.
I tried twisting it round and round. Like a corkscrew.
All that happened was my nose turned bright red. Like Rudolph.
“Hmm,” I said again, uncertainly. Sister, really getting into the swing of things now, fetched some Vaseline. “Here,” she said enthusiastically, “push it back in again, shove some Vaseline up your nostril, and then pull it through.” My nose really starting to hurt by now, I meekly obeyed. The nose stud, however, did not. “It’s not coming out!” I said panickily. Sister was rummaging in the tool box. “What are you doing?” I asked fearfully, as I saw her contemplating a pair of pliers. “Well,” she said distractedly, “maybe if we can find some sort of cutting implement and just snip it in half…”. I looked at her in absolute terror, and began to pull at the nose stud as if my life depended on it. She approached with a pair of scissors.
There was no other way. With all the enthusiasm of one about to sever their own right hand, I placed the scissors in between the stud and the outside of my nose. Closing my eyes, I snipped. There was a blinding moment of pain.
I grabbed the mirror and studied my nose intently. “It’s gone, the stud is gone!!” I shrieked somewhat hysterically. Having searched the kitchen floor, we have to admit that we have no idea where it has gone to, but the important thing to focus on is that it is in fact gone. Cue stage two: Operation Insert New Stud. Good grief. You know that steady hand game, where you have to guide the loop thing along the bendy, twisted metal track? That’s what the new stud was like. Twisting and turning and bending and curving. I don’t want to talk about it, actually.
As a result of this experience, my nose looks like this:
I look like a raging alcoholic, but at least there’s a cute, sparkly star to distract attention from the Red Nose Horror. Life would be boring if we didn’t do stupid things at times.