Posted: Fri, Aug 16, 2024
Date |
2nd August 2023 |
Location |
CALM Bodymodification, Stockholm, Sweden |
Artist |
Sonchai Maibert, or just Chai for short! Support from Frederik. |
Getting my tongue split is one of those things I saw online as a young’un (well, teenager) and thought it was the coolest shit in the world. I knew one day I’d have a lil snake tongue of my own. It’s almost funny really, as when you’re young it’s one of those pipe dream situations. You get a bit older - I had just turned 25 - and realise you can just do whatever you want. I could get a recommendation from someone in the piercing industry here who knows modifiers overseas, save some money, then just fly and get it done. And I did just that.
It’s off to Stockholm for a quick smash and grab. No fucking around here - get there in one piece, sleep, get it done, sleep, get home. I hadn’t been on a plane in about 5 years and had never flown without family, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I was accompanied by a good friend who had flown to Stockholm a couple times before and was up for the adventure.
General itinerary
- 1st Aug - Midday flight to sunny Stockholm, some exploring
- 2nd Aug - Slicing time!
- 3rd Aug - midday flight back to Edinburgh, and an evening train from Edinburgh back home
preparation
I think I over-prepared for this, but I’m not mad I did so. 7 days before the big chop, I’d have my last coffee and my last smoke. I switched to vapes and tried to push through the best I could without caffeine. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take a hot drink in for at least a week post-op, and as for smoking, I didn’t think it would do me a lot of good to have smoke straight on open wounds. I’d bought some baby toothpaste, alcohol-free mouthwash, a baby toothbrush (super soft bristles to clean sutures) and some OTC painkillers - namely paracetamol and ibuprofen.
In my bag I brought a small handtowel - a godsend - and a plastic cup for gobbing in on the plane, which I surprisingly (but thankfully) did not need to use.
Upon flying back, I nipped into a Savers for an extra box of each painkiller, and also into Holland and Barrett to get some bootleg Huel. You know the ‘nutritionally complete food’ powder you mix with water? Yeah, I just got a big bag of whatever was cheapest. My only regret is that I wish I’d bought this before flying, mainly as I could barely speak and I felt a bit of an arse having to show cashiers text on my phone to try and communicate.
I went through the full recovery process on my own and it was manageable enough. I had everything I needed and could be disgusting in peace. I’m lucky enough to work from home, and was back working the day after I flew home! I felt fucking rough like, but hey, I didn’t have a lot of holiday left to use.
the day before
Flying was fine! The weather was warm without being disgusting. My last proper meal was a MAX Burger – a recommendation I’d received from a fellow veggie who had been to Sweden, and fucking hell it was good. It was a ‘dubbel original plant beef’ meal which came with cheese fries (topped with jalapeños and sweet onion) and some Fanta Exotic, a flavour we don’t have here. It made every single veggie burger I’d ever eaten in these here British Isles look like absolute dogshit.
I’m highlighting this meal as I would be living off yfood pre-mix bottles for the rest of my time in Sweden, and I wouldn’t actually get to chew food for the next 7 days.
Also, here are the last pictures ever to exist of my tongue in one piece.
the actual procedure
CONTENT WARNINGfor blood and general grimness from here on out.
Chai is so lovely and I felt completely at ease walking into his studio for the first time. The procedure was very quick! I suppose it is a bizarre feeling. I’m laying on a bed with Frederik stood behind my head, holding both sides of my tongue, watching as Chai scalpels through the centre. Chunky sutures are used to stitch up each side of my tongue. The tongue web is also cut and stitched to both sides to help prevent the split joining itself back together.
Of course, after all this, I am relegated to a bumbling fool. Within seconds I’m needing to whip my phone out and type out messages to communicate. This would drive me batshit crazy within 2 minutes of leaving the studio.
recovery
I took the maximum recommended daily dosages of both paracetamol and ibuprofen to help with pain and swelling, and I did this from the second I’d left Chai’s studio to getting my sutures removed.
the rest of day 0
Not wanting to waste time, me and my pal headed straight to Sandsborgskyrkogården cemetery to go find Quorthon’s grave. Mission success - but that’s a story for another post, this is getting unwieldy as is. The main thing was a suture had broken free, filling my mouth with blood (what Quorthon would’ve wanted, really). I took some clean gauze and folded it a couple times, wedging it between my tongues (god, what a weird feeling) and keeping my trap shut to help it clot.
While the studio was still open, we swung round back to Chai’s just to double check everything looked alright. It did! It had clotted perfectly so nothing to worry about. We replaced the gauze with a fresh one, and on we went.
day 1
This is where the hand towel came in clutch. I’d folded it and wedged it under my pillow so it would stick out. I woke up with it soaked in spit as I’d be drooling all night. Delicious, I know. I had a bottle of pre-mixed meal replacement drink, gently cleaned my teeth and mouthwashed, then it was on our way to the airport.
A thing to note - for me, swallowing was fine. I could drink my meal replacement and take painkillers with no problems. Some slight discomfort, sure, and I probably looked strange as owt tipping my head back to put less strain on my throat. I’d read about other people getting their tongues split and not being able to drink even a bit of water for nearly 2 full days! I do wonder if it was the ibuprofen I was regularly taking that helped with the swelling, or whether my body just took it easier.
Not just the flight, but the whole process of airport bullshit, flying, and getting to Edinburgh city centre from the airport was fairly painless. Figuratively speaking, anyway. My first mission returning to civilization in Edinburgh was to get a fucking bottle of water. My painkillers had worn off and things were starting to hurt all the way down my throat, and I’d had to toss my water bottle before flying. Once some pills had been necked and about half an hour had passed, I’d returned back to being in general discomfort, which was a blessing really.
day 2
I am just able to stick my tongue out for me first photos since the day of. It shakes as I do, so I don’t push it out too far. My mouth is painfully aware of the fact there are two separately moving chunks of flesh in there as opposed to the usual one. It doesn’t look too bad though!
I don’t remember if it was this day or day 3 where I attempted to eat some scrambled eggs and spaghetti hoops - the softest food I could think of - and just gently moving me tongue in an attempt to somewhat chew the food was making my eyes water. Straight back on the meal replacements, I suppose.
day 3
I don’t remember what caused this, but I needed to wedge some fresh gauze between my tongues again as I’d had another leak. Obligatory photo of a bloody piece of gauze and my lush but very grown out nails.
One thing I’m noticing is that my breath is starting to fucking stink. I am so particular about my hygiene and the stress of not being able to have a fresh mouth was really something. I had a tongue scraper which I was being supremely careful with so as to not get it caught on a suture, but it wasn’t helping much. I would brush my teeth twice a day as usual, including using a baby toothbrush to gently get at the sutures, and use alcohol free mouthwash whenever I consumed any meal replacement drink. The drink being milk based wouldn’t have helped, but the killer was that the sutures would absorb the smell. Plaque would cling to them, and even trying to be uber meticulous with tweezers to try and remove debris would end up being futile. Mouthwash can only do so much, and I was frightened to go too hard with the baby toothbrush in case I yanked yet another suture out. My tongue was pretty much white at this point, and it would only get worse over the coming days.
day 4
I can move my tongue out much further! Not much else to report. I’m starting to get small blisters on the sides of my tongue as my teeth keep catching it. My gob still stinks. I can taste it. It’s horrible and there’s nothing I can do until the sutures come out - 2 more days to go and I’m practically counting down the hours! We push on.
day 5
A blood clot had formed at the base of my tongue. I was gently nudging it to see if it would dislodge itself, but it seemed fairly firmly on there. I, being me, start panicking. Did I fuck something up? I was soon reassured that it was nothing to worry about and my body’s just healing, and I was inclined to believe the advice. After all - it was an external clot. There was no fresh blood leaking into my mouth and no new pain I wasn’t expecting, it just looked crazy.
Now, not exactly helpful, but I actually don’t remember when it sorted itself out. I’m writing this up just over a year later (54 weeks if we want to get all precise about it) and some of the details are gone from memory. I genuinely think I either swallowed it or it naturally dissipated overnight, as the next day I’d get the sutures out and there wasn’t a blood clot to be seen. A temporary hiccup! I think it being an oral situation is what made it more worrying for me.
day 6
Freedom day! A close friend of mine was kind enough to help me take out my sutures. I felt so fucking guilty sitting in that chair, cos I knew my breath smelled like SHIT!
In preparation, I lined a good amount of Bonjela inbetween and under my tongue(s?), and thank goodness I did. The sutures at the base of my tongue felt like nothing being removed, but fuck – the ones at the tip sent a shockwave down my neck when removed! Once the last suture was out, I immediately apologised for how foul my breath was. My friend, who had worn a mask during the ordeal, simply said my breath smelled like fish. I still feel like that was too polite of a comment.
My tongue moved freely and I felt zero pain at all, apart from some tenderness at the very tips of my tongue. The only thing was that yawning was still painful as it would yank at the base of my tongue. My speech was very slurred, and it would take a week or so for it to straighten out and for my lisp to disappear. I could speak so much easier though! I remember going home and cooking meself a fat full English, and I’d even found some vegan black pudding. Heaven on a plate. I was bold enough to go for toast despite me being unable to chew for a full week, and it was fine!
My jaw felt incredibly weak though. I mean shit, I’d been on drinks for a full week. It was wild to feel just how much work it was taking for my jaw to move though, it was almost uncomfortable. Brushing my teeth wasn’t fun either as my gums were so weak, despite me brushing the fuck out of them like I normally do. It would take a few days of regular eating for everything to feel normal again and for my jaw to regain its strength.
day 8
I have nothing much to report here. I’m logging this date as this was the first gig I went to post-op, and I remember people at the venue taking the piss out of me cos my voice was still a lispy, slurred mess. It still tickles me thinking about it. A suggestion posed was that I split my 2 tongues into 4 and so forth like Davy Jones further down some unholy evolutionary tree. I haven’t fully dismissed the idea!
Another thing is the whiteness of my tongue pretty much cleared up either overnight or within like, 3 days max. Again, unfortunately my memory is hazy. I think being able to chew food (and therefore have some natural abrasion going on) and now being able to brush every inch of my tongue and teeth was all I needed.
life as a snake
Within 2 weeks of having the procedure done, my speech was back to normal and my lisp disappeared, and I was at the point where I was forgetting that my tongue was forked. It would be a lovely surprise for meself each time I’d go to brush my teeth.
I unfortunately can’t do any tricks! I can move my tongues independently, which is fun, but I can’t twist them over each other and make both sides clap like I’ve seen others do. I was never able to fold my tongue pre-slice though, so I knew I wouldn’t manage to be able to do anything funky. I am very much enjoying just having it split in general!
I’m just over 1 year healed now, here’s one last tongue photo! It looks the same as it did after 3 weeks healed, but hey, a year is a milestone right?
