Pictures of Puncturing

Today I told my Puncturer that he should take some photos so I could show my DH (and all of you, too, but I thought he might think that to be a bit odd). The Puncturer thought it was a great idea!

He pulled my phone out of my purse, inserted my needles and began clicking away. I soon felt as if I were a tourist attraction. The funniest part of the whole photographing process happened before he took the first photo. While I'm stretched out with needles, I keep my eyes closed. The Puncturer begins counting, "1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . ." and I start laughing. I said, "You don't need to count. I can't see you, and I'm not going to smile!" He shot the photo and said, "You were smiling there!" You won't see that photo because it's awful. Not that the rest of these are flattering whatsoever but here they are.

Here you can see several needles in my fat, tired, zit-ridden face since I was stupid enough to want asked for some help with sinus pressure. You can see one in my forehead, two sticking sideways into each eyebrow, and one sticking out of each side of my nose. Those hurt.

Needles in my legs, feet, and even in my toes!

And the last one is of my big belly. You'll see the needles in my upper and mid stomach, along my bikini line, and in my hands and thumbs.

I can't believe I just showed the world those terrible shots. I have no dignity. The things I do for you people! Don't get your hopes up (or should I say don't worry) . . . there will NEVER EVER, EVER be ANY photos of me in the stirrups. EV-ER.