A Tattoo for You or Whatever You Do To Make You Happy

 We all have things that just make us feel good. Maybe they make us feel pretty or sexy or maybe they just make us feel complete. They may not be things that we can't live without, but they are things that have purpose in our lives because of what they do for us mentally, physically, spiritually, or all the above. It can be anything as small as getting your nails done or as big as getting plastic surgery. Whatever it is though, you can better bet that someone is going to have an opinion on it and moreover, they are going to make that opinion known. 

When I was young, tattoos were really not a mainstream thing. They were more for the military, carnie, biker types. If you were not one of the aforementioned and you had a tattoo, people had immediate preconceived notions about who you were and just how you might fit into society. Over the last couple of decades though, tattoos have become far more mainstream and dare I say, even fashionable. Tattoo parlors are in just about every city and town, large and small and everyone from teens to little older grandmas are getting them. 

Depending on the skill of your tattoo artist and your own desired artwork choices, some have literal masterpieces spread out across their bodies. Others though, can end up with misspelled words, designs that don't look the way they had hoped, or just messed up, jacked up tattoos that are ugly and even embarrassing. That is no fun, especially since unless you have $$$ for removal, you are basically stuck with a reminder of either your bad judgment or the artist's bad craftsmanship for eternity and beyond. Either way, it is not the desired end game. 

Now about a decade ago, I decided to get my first tattoo. Yes, I was a full-grown, mature adult woman and I wanted a tattoo. However, I told myself that if I got a tattoo, it would have to mean something to me. I wasn't going to put something on my body that would last a lifetime and 40 years from now look at it and wonder, "What the hell was I thinking?" Also, I wasn't putting this tattoo someplace that was going to sag or distort so that again, 40 years from now I would look at it and wonder, "What the hell was I thinking?"

So a friend and I went to a tattoo party at another friend's house. Who knew such things existed? It was rather convenient though. You would get in line, pick the tattoo you wanted, and when it was your turn, you got tattooed. In my head, this beat the heck out of going to a shop. Don't ask me why. Perhaps it was the liquor that I was able to consume before it was my turn. Lucky for me, the guy before me had a whole upper back tattoo of a Michaelangelo painting, so there was plenty of time for me to get my drink on and numb every part of my body. 

I had decided that my first and maybe my only tattoo (depending on how this whole thing went) was going to be a little barnyard pig. I have loved pigs all my life and when my friend and I saw the pig in the artists' book of drawings, we both agreed that a pig it must be. I then, in the moment, decided that the placement would be on the top of my right foot. Now I knew nothing about the pain involved with tattoos or where on the body might hurt the least or the most. My placement choice was because I could cover it up as I knew there would be people in my life who would not approve, but when I was barefoot or wearing a sandal, I could enjoy my little piggie. 

As the guy in front of me was getting his masterpiece finished up, I nervously awaited my turn full of alcohol and second-guessing my decision. Then suddenly the tattoo artist sat me down, drew the outline of the pig, pressed it on my foot, and away we went. Thank goodness for the alcohol. I felt absolutely nothing in an area that I am told I should have been coming up out of my seat on. In about 15 minutes' time, he was done and I had the cutest little pig on my foot that you have ever seen. For some reason though, the moment I stood up, I knew the party was over for me, and we left. 

I have never once regretted my pig and even when those that I knew would disapprove, saw it, and actually did disapprove, I didn't care. I love my pig. In fact, I loved it so much that it made me make a bit of a mistake on my next tattoo. 

My son had a friend who had decided he wanted to be a tattoo artist. He in fact was a really good artist and he was looking for people to practice on. I figured everybody's gotta learn and if I did something simple, then how bad could it be? Even if he messed it up, I should be okay...right? So he came to my house and he tattooed both my son and myself. Again, I might have numbed a little with alcohol before he began and again, there was little pain. 

I chose an infinity symbol on the outside of my left leg with both my deceased mother and daughter's names on the symbol. It was done in black ink. My sons was a treble clef on his upper arm done in black. The tattoos weren't horrible, but in time, they did start looking kind of globby and so several years ago my son went to a really amazing tattoo artist and had his treble clef redone with a watercolor effect. It is beautiful. Mine, however, just got uglier. 

Then last year, one of my closest friends lost her daughter in an accident. It was a tremendous tragedy and it killed me to watch my friend and her husband suffer. Their daughter was an amazing young woman and one of the things she loved were sea turtles. To be honest, I had never really thought about sea turtles before. Then one night I went to bed and I had horrible nightmares. I have no idea what they were about, but the minute my eyes opened the next morning, I had this undying thought that I had to get a sea turtle tattoo on my wrist. I tried to talk myself out of it several times as we were still in the middle of COVID and most tattoo shops were closed. Then, out of nowhere, this tattoo artist that I had never seen before, popped up on my Facebook feed. Even more curious, was that she lived and worked in the next town over. I just knew without a doubt that she was the one I was supposed to go to, so I messaged her and she got me in the next day. She worked out of her home and again, I liked that there was no shop involved. I showed her what I wanted and within half an hour and just a little discomfort (no alcohol was available), I had the most beautiful sea turtle on my wrist that I had ever seen. I cannot tell you how much I love this tattoo, mainly because I think there was a little divine intervention involved with my getting it. I truly think Kylie (the young girl) wanted me to have it and she made it so that it all fell into place for me to get it. 

Finally, about two weeks ago, I decided that my globby leg tattoo needed to be fixed. I was tired of seeing it, as it wasn't even really distinguishable anymore. I sent the tattoo artist (her name is Z and she was the one that did my turtle) a picture of my ugly tattoo and showed her what I wanted instead. She drew me a beautiful cover-up for the original tattoo and before I knew it, I was on her table and she was tattooing away. Now I am going to say without hesitation, that this tattoo HURT! Apparently, I picked a spot just ripe with nerve endings and I spent the entire hour questioning this particular life choice with gritted teeth.....until she was finished. She had taken the original infinity symbol and made it much bigger in order to cover the globbiness. She did some amazing shading on the curves and added yellow roses and my mother and my daughters' names. It is truly a beautiful tribute to my mother and daughter and honestly, it was worth every ounce of pain. Often, some of the beautiful things in life are. 

I currently have three tattoos that mean a great deal to me. They are tattoos that 40 years from now will still mean a great deal to me and because they are each beautiful, they make me feel beautiful. There is also something about going through the experience of getting a tattoo that is so therapeutic for me. Perhaps the pain of the tattoo is healing in some ways because afterward, I always feel a weight has been lifted. I have no idea why. 

Of course, each time I get a tattoo, there are those who tsk tsk me and question why I would do that...especially at my age. I've been told that it is nothing but foolishness and there is always someone who tells me, "Well I would never do that to my body." They are usually the ones that have had their lips plumped and their cheeks filled with botox, but what do I care? If that makes them feel good about themselves, then by all means I support them and if they don't understand that my tattoos make me feel the same way, then let them feel the way they feel. Their opinion of me or my tattoos is none of my business. 

Sometimes in life, we just have to do things that change how we see ourselves and feel about ourselves. Had anyone told me when I was in my 20's that when I was in my 50's I would be getting my third tattoo, I would never have believed it. Life and time have changed me though, and these tattoos have helped me heal in ways I never knew possible. And no...I'm not done yet. There will be more. I am working on one that honors my late husband and the life we shared together, but first I gotta find a spot on my body with a lot less nerve endings.

I guess the point of all of this is, get your nails done, have your butt lifted, your tummy tucked or your lips plumped if it makes you feel good about yourself. Do the things that make you feel beautiful and heal your body, mind, and soul. More importantly, don't let anyone make you feel bad or uncomfortable about your choices just because they wouldn't do it or because they don't understand why you would and do. 

One thing you learn with age and the passage of time is that life is short and it isn't always easy, it isn't always fair and yes, sometimes there is pain. So when we find things that bring us joy, bring us closure, bring us peace and even give us the ability to move on through life more whole than we were beforehand, we owe it to ourselves to go for it and be damned what anyone else thinks or says.

Until next time.....may you stay healthy, may you do the things that make you happy and may you feel beautiful in your own skin.  

So......I Did a Thing!

I haven't given this blog much love recently. Well, today's topic seemed to fit on my health and wellness blog just right.

So....I did a thing. Before I fully disclose though, I need to give you a bit of a back story.

I was born in the 1960's and in my opinion.....dental care in my part of the country between the late 1950's and the early 1980's was little better than that in current England. Now I could be wrong, but my experiences with the dental profession have not always been anything to write home about.

As a kid, I was sick a lot with asthma which usually went into bronchitis and often times pneumonia. I was pumped full of medication from about the age of two, up until my late teens. These medications were not great for my teeth as some leached calcium and others just literally destroyed them with cavities regardless of the three times a day I brushed or the avoidance of sweets. To top it all off, the cavities I seemed to have developed every six months were filled with big silver fillings that stuck out like a sore thumb and I learned later in life, would cause the tooth to eventually break around the filling.

As I grew into an adult, my teeth became less and less a reason to smile. Now, I am not blaming it all on dentistry or meds, because every time I was pregnant, one of my favorite cravings was ice. No...not the crushed stuff, but actual cubes which I could chomp on. Four pregnancies later and my teeth had tiny fractures developing all through them. Apparently what vintage dentistry and pharmaceuticals didn't kill in my teeth, my ice chomping finished off.

In the last few years, my teeth have become a nightmare. I have lost teeth and done the whole partial thing and spent literally thousands of dollars trying to keep what I had in tact. Recently though, my partial (which is a story all it's own) started breaking off. My mouth was in constant pain and I was having roots of my teeth growing almost into my sinuses. It has been miserable to say the least.

Living on a very limited income, my needs usually come a very distant last, but when you are in constant pain and being told that the constant infections your teeth are causing can cause life threatening outcomes, I had to pull myself up the priority line. After calling around, I found that even with my dental insurance, the work I was needing was going to cost anywhere between $3000 and $5000 and this simply was not even a possibility. Of course though, neither was dying because I left my tooth infection unattended. Finally, one of the dentist offices I talked to gave me the name of a dental facility that was for low income and worked on a sliding fee, so I made an appointment.

Now, this dentist I saw was awesome. She was a young woman not too many years out of dental school with a great seat side manner who seemed very knowledgeable with a gentle touch. After much consultation, it was brought to my attention that even on a sliding scale, filling in my spaces and fixing my partial was going to be far more than I could afford. It was also going to be a situation that even if fixed, it would not keep the rest of my teeth from needing further work and attention and costing me more. The bottom line....the most cost effective thing to do for my teeth was to simply pull them all and get dentures. It about made me cry but realistically and financially this was what it came down to. Neither the dentist nor I were 100% happy with this idea, because she said my gums were still in okay shape and my bone was great and as far as I was concerned, I wasn't ready to turn into my grandmother who was constantly hunting her teeth and scaring small children while she was looking. Okay....me! I was the small child she scared.

There was also the fact that even though dentures were the most cost effective, long term way to go, even on a sliding scale, it was going to be pricey. Luckily the offset would be that I would not be eating for awhile, so I could save some money there. Right?

So yeah.....that thing I did.....I decided to get dentures. 

When I make a decision such as this, I have learned that the longer I think about it, the less apt I am to carry through and since this was a long term health affecting situation, I didn't really have the luxury of time to mull it over. I did do a little research and talked to my dentist in depth. She said that they would start with my top teeth since my bottom ones were still okay for now. They would pull all of the teeth and then give them six weeks to heal and then fit me with dentures and it would be another four to six weeks before I got them. I talked to others who had done this and a few suggested I be fit with a healing plate as soon as my teeth were pulled, as this would keep my gums from shrinking and be easier on me in the long run. It sounded good to me. I talked this over with my dentist and she said they didn't do the healing plates for a multitude of reasons but I think the biggest reason was cost. She did give me the name of other dentists I could go to if I wanted a healing plate. I called and the whole procedure would cost two to three times what I was already paying and the healing plate alone would be an extra $800-$1500. So no healing plate for this gal.

Thursday January 30th was the day. I went in, sat down and prepared to lose all my upper teeth, my smile, my ability to say words without a lisp and perhaps some dignity in the process.

The procedure began with 14 deadening shots. Nine were on the outside and five were behind the teeth on the upper palette. May I just say, I have not had much in life physically that hurt worse than those last five. I don't usually cry at pain, but those suckers almost made me. Once I was good and deadened, the extractions began. There was no pain, but there was a lot of tugging, pulling, pressure and the horrid smell of burning enamel and cauterized flesh. The process took about 90 minutes and as I walked out with a prescription for 10 tramadol and a mouthful of gauze, it was a given that talking would be out of the question for the next 24 hours.

I did okay the first few days and even realized that I could care less if people saw me without upper teeth or not. Who knew? I am not nearly as vain as I thought I might be. The real issue around other people for me though, has been my ability to speak. I can't speak well and therefore, I try hard not to speak at all.

By the end of the first week, things were beginning to change and I started having more and more pain and bending over or cold air hitting my gums was excruciating. The roof of my mouth had started swelling and I was developing sore spots everywhere I had been stuck with the needle on my palette. They then began to start breaking open. I called the dentist and was started on antibiotics. The pain did not leave and I was not sleeping and by around 3 p.m. every day, my mouth would be throbbing. I was fast becoming a royal bitch and no one....including myself wanted to be around me. My pain meds were long gone and I was surviving on ibuprofen and tylenol. Four days later, the infection was obviously still a thing and the pain was worse so I ended up in the ER.  I had absesses where the five needle marks were. They ended up giving me a second antibiotic and said the infection was causing the pain. Lose the infection and the pain will be better. Sigh......

Today, I think it is beginning to be better. I can tell that the gums are starting to heal and although I still feel pain in my face and jaw, the swelling in the top of my mouth seems to be better. Perhaps we are now moving in the right direction.

If there is an upside to all of this, it might be that this is the most effective diet I have ever been on. I can't eat and even if I could, I likely wouldn't because the infection makes everything taste awful. I am surviving on water, the occasional smoothy and broth. I am sure as the pain subsides, other soft foods will be okay and taste better, but for now.....the I Have No Teeth and an Infection Diet are working wonders for my thighs.

In about a month, I will go back into the dentist and they will fit me for my dentures. It will be another chunk of sliding scale change up front and then I will get my dentures in another four to six weeks. I am told that the fun will not be over just then though. There will be trial and error once I get my new dentures as to the fit and my ability to learn to hold them in place, so actual eating may still be awhile off.

The dentist said after my dentures are where and how they need to fit, we may then have to talk about doing the bottom teeth. Wow! I just don't know. Perhaps though, if I end up being able to smile and talk again....not to mention eat, I may very well have a bottom set of dentures in my future. For now though.....we'll just wait and see.

So yeah.....I did a thing. I will keep you updated!