I never thought I would get a tattoo-ever, but two years ago I did. This is how it happened.
Our Mother/Daughter Day– My First Tattoo
posted over 3 years ago, updated 16 days later
Shannon, my older daughter lives in Austin. She found her perfect man. She is such an independent woman I wondered if she ever would. Paul made her so happy that they finally decided to get married after being together four years.
Her younger sister, Shelley, and I went to Austin to help her shop for a wedding dress. She found the perfect dress. You know, the one that when she put it on, she just knew it was the one. A perfect day…
After she bought her dress, she said, “Well, now we’re all going to get tattoos.” Okay, I thought. You know, we had been talking abstractly about all of us getting the same tattoo. All our names begin with an s and Shannon had found this beautiful intricate s when she and Paul were in Florence. And we had, sort of, talked about getting a tattoo on our foot. Both the girls had one tattoo, which they said wasn’t a big deal. Shannon had one on her shoulder and Shelley on her lower back.
In my head I was thinking, I can do this. I have migraine headaches. I can stand pain. And besides both the girls already have a tattoo.
So we went to Atomic Tattoo in Austin-a very popular tattoo parlor. We each had a different tattoo artist. The one who drew the short straw got me. He looked eighteen. He called me ma’am. I felt like I was talking to a student of mine. He felt like he was tattooing his mother, I thought.
“Never had a tattoo ma’am?” he asked as he looked at me. “No, but I’m not afraid to get one.” “Really, it’s okay” I reassured him. So he bravely trudged on. I sat on a long bench with my “to be” tattooed foot firmly planted flat on the green plastic. No problem, I thought. He began the tattoo work. Okay, not so bad.
Then, without warning, a rush of adrenaline washed over me and my foot and leg began to shake.
Not tiny quivers but full blown heaving shaking. I pressed my foot hard on the bench to make it stop. I put my arm on my knee to make it stop. But I couldn’t make the shaking stop. He interrupted the tattooing for a minute. Hum, can’t leave it like this, I thought. So I held down my leg, and he finished. I was caught in a space time continuum. I have no idea how long it took, but both Shannon and Shelley had finished theirs and were watching me.
I didn’t know if the look on their face was one of pain or pity. My young tattoo artist finally finished and I put both feet on the floor. Whoa, I thought. I have never fainted before. He grabbed my arm. Is this what it feels like? But the lightheadedness went away and we limped to the check-out counter. You know that when you get a tattoo there is danger of infection so they had this special antibiotic cream to put on the tattoo to keep that from happening. Great. We each bought one tube. Plastic is placed on a new tattoo as well. I don’t remember why. By that time my brain had left my body.
“I am not going to say how much this hurts. I am not going to say how much this hurts.” I kept thinking.
We limped to the car and got in. “Oh, my *** that hurts,” my daughters said. Oh, thank goodness I can finally say how much it hurts now. I had three vicodin from a previous surgery in my purse. Just a precaution in case the pain got the best of me. We each took a vicodin to stave off the by now, excruciating pain.
All the way to the Mexican food restaurant, Shannon and Shelley kept talking about the pain. So much pain. Well, by now, I was feeling pretty good about myself. When we walked in the restaurant we were limping in unison, which we did not realize until the waitress asked us if we had been in an accident because we were all limping.
Thankfully, our table was close. We each ordered a top shelf margarita. That should do it. Ha, after the first one, we ordered a second with chips and salsa. After the second margarita with the vicodin (a combination that begs the phrase, “Do not attempt this without a doctor’s supervision"
, we finally felt well enough to go home. We had to stay longer in the restaurant though, because we had the two margaritas.
Finally we made it to Shannon’s house where we proudly took pictures of our tattooed left feet. Now we love showing our matching tattoos off to our friends. We had a picture taken at the wedding of our matching tattoos. I even put a picture of mine in my Eons life path.
Out of curiosity I looked up the five most painful places to get a tattoo. The foot is the third most painful. The eye is the second. And well, I will leave the most painful place to get a tattoo up to your imagination.
Tattoos...For or Against
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Originally Posted by Donna Brown:
, we finally felt well enough to go home. We had to stay longer in the restaurant though, because we had the two margaritas.
