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Help Me, Rhonda

I pray she has steady hands and that I don't jump.

I’m facing one of my biggest fears today.

At 1 p.m., I will be getting my ears double pierced.

First I’ll flashback to the first and second times I got my ears pierced.

When I was five, I got them done for my birthday. The day after my fifth birthday, I woke up with two ears who had swollen to the size of golf balls. My mother freaked out and took the earrings out and I was doomed to be unpierced until I was 12.

That’s the good story.

I was wearing this rainbow sweater in a mall in Huntsville, AL, one day. I was shopping with my mom, aunt and boy cousin, Daniel.

This day, I had decided, would be the day I got my ears pierced in an attempt to burst into my teenage years.

I had a necklace with several Tamagotchis on  it. My cousin held them for me.

Then, I had what would be the first of many, full-blown panic attacks.

Up until this point, I had never had surgery, never had a cavity and it had been six years since I had a shot. (I know that because I made my pediatrician sign a contract when I was six that I not have to get another shot until I was 16. He lied. I had to get shots when I was 14 to enter high school. I haven’t forgotten that, Dr. Powell.)

Anyways, in the middle of Madison Square Mall, it hit me that I would be pushing a needle through my body.

All the way through.

A needle. Through my body.

You know what else goes through bodies? Bullets. I’ve seen all the Lethal Weapon movies enough to know how that works.

I cried. I screamed. I had a full blown meltdown in the middle of the mall. I was “that kid” for a solid hour.

And then I did it, and I thought it was over.

Now, 11 years later, I’ve decided that I need two ear piercings. One for pretty dangly earrings and the other for the diamond studs my parents got me a few years ago. My sweet momma, who also got a brand new pair of 1-carat diamond studs as an early Valentine’s Day present (nice work, Dad), agreed to get it done as well.

So, I called around and found that in Hickory Flat does it. I explained my situation and fear and the voice on the other end said I needed to come in and see Rhonda tomorrow at 1 p.m.

Today, I face one of my fears. I will get it done. You know why? Because my fear of needles is less than my fear of being embarrassed tomorrow when I have to write “I chickened out” in this column.

Godspeed and steady hands, Rhonda.

Jessie Gable February 07, 2012 at 06:44 PM
This was nothing! They're great at Merle Norman.

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