Aging disgracefully.

I went ahead and lasered off my whole face so that I can draw it back on.

Mr. Bean’s restoration of Whistler’s Mother.

If you think I’m exaggerating, you are correct. I did go for an IPL (Intense Pulsed Light) treatment last Saturday. It is different from laser treatments in that instead of using a single wavelength to treat one condition, IPL uses a broad spectrum that allows multiple conditions to be treated at once.

I wish I’d have taken my own “Before” photo, but my phone in its current state cannot take a proper selfie. The glass top layer of my phone’s screen has delaminated around the edges, and pocket fuzz has wiggled its way between the glass and camera, creating a permanent soft-focus for all front-facing photos.

The goal of the IPL procedure was to get an actual soft focus-like complexion. I’ve worn sunblock on my face for the last 10 years, but I started too late. My cheeks are blemished with acne scars of the yesteryear . The most noticeable imperfection of all would have to be the spooky clusters of spider veins peeking from under my skin. If you’ve never noticed, it’s either because I wear makeup, or because you haven’t looked at my face from an inch away.

A few months back, a friend revealed that they had their face zapped free of micro veins. As a result, they look magically flawless without the aid of makeup.

Wow. Technology.

Before I could do the same, I had to do some homework. Who can I trust to go close to my face with a fucking laser? Or even a flashgun? CLOSE TO MY EYES? And for what? To make my face look less-interesting? And at what cost?!

I Googled. Yes, I read Google Reviews. I judged the font choice of their websites. I sent emails asking the same questions everybody else probably asks. I subjected myself to horror stories of IPL treatments gone bad. Then came the consultation, followed by the procedure.

The light treatment machine looked like a cross between a clothes steamer and an office printer. I put on sunbed goggles and reclined on a dental chair. The technician then used a tongue depressor to coat my face in gel lubricant. Is this what it takes for awesome-looking skin?

I was told that it wouldn’t hurt, which wasn’t exactly true and left me unprepared for the first jolt. I flinched.

What a bizarre situation I’ve just put myself into, I thought, I can’t wait to write about this!

The zapping was more irritating than painful. Getting tattooed is way more painful, but if I had to choose between sitting through an hour of tattooing or this, I’d go with tattooing. Twenty minutes of what felt like a tiny rubber band flicking my face was tolerable. The most unnerving thing about this procedure was the flashes of red that leaked through the goggles AND my eyelids. The goggles being too small for my abnormally large eyeballs was a concern.

Happily, my eyesight wasn’t impacted. It will be another week before I’ll be able to see the final outcome of the first treatment, but the spider veins around my nose have definitely shriveled up. By then, I’ll be able to decide whether I want to invest in 3 or 4 more treatments so that I can look the way my dusty front-facing camera makes me look.

I can’t alter my shitty genes, but it appears that I can fuck them up with lasers. I love body modification.

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