The Maker’s Recovery: Why I Design for the Industry

A lot of people ask where the name "Stab Lab" came from. To understand that, you have to understand where I was three years ago.

For years, my office was the back of an ambulance. As a paramedic, my life was high-stakes, fast-paced, and entirely hands-on. But three years ago, an injury changed everything. I found myself unable to return to the field that I loved and never thought I'd leave emergency services; facing a recovery that was as much about mental health as it was physical healing. No one tells you how hard it can be losing your career, especially emergency medicine where it

becomes a big part of your identity.

I needed a way to keep my mind sharp and my hands busy. I didn't just pick up a hobby; I dove into the mechanics of the "Stab."

From Medicine to Machine

During my recovery, I taught myself the tools of the modern maker. I didn't just buy a 3D printer; I learned how to build and maintain the hardware. I taught myself 3D design (CAD) to bring my own ideas to life and learned how to operate a laser to refine my components.

These machines became my therapy. There’s a specific kind of peace found in refining a design until it functions perfectly—a drive I call my "over-engineering" habit. If something can function better, why settle for "good enough"?

The First Request

The pivot to the tattoo and piercing industry happened almost by accident. A friend in the piercing industry asked if I could design a "simple" 3D-printed display for her shop. She was tired of cheap plastic stands that were branded with everyone’s logo but her own, and she was sick of jewelry scattering across the floor every time a display was bumped.

I looked at the problem through the lens of my medical training. I remembered the suture pads we used in medic school—silicone that held tension and "self-healed." I realized that the same science used to train medics could be used to solve the "jewelry scramble" in a piercing studio.

Why the "Lab" Matters

I’m not a tattoo artist or a professional piercer. I am a maker.

When I design a Multi-Gauge Display or an Apprentice Series Skin, I’m approaching it as an engineering challenge. I’m testing silicone ratios for the perfect feel, calculating thermal resistance for sterilization, and manipulating material density so a tattoo needle provides the same tactile feedback I relied on as a paramedic.

More Than Just a Business

Stab Lab Designs is the result of a difficult pivot. It’s proof that the skills we learn in one life—like the precision and pressure of paramedicine—can be "over-engineered" into something new.

When you buy a Stab Lab product, you aren't just getting silicone and plastic. You’re getting a piece of equipment that was birthed from a need for precision, a passion for design, and a refusal to build anything "simple."

"If you can make something function better, why wouldn't you?"