Facelift
in a Bottle: My Experience with Mesotherapy
In August 2005, I went to my hair colorist. Like most beauty salons in
Southern California, the place was milling with talk about the latest
beauty tips and aids. Among them that caught my interest like a
heat-seeking missile to a target was this "latest thing" --
mesotherapy. The aesthetician and the girls were just
raving about it-- how it shrunk and tightened and smoothed your skin.
I am not particularly bad looking, but I do have
this issue with my face. I have high cheekbones, which is a good thing,
but the bottom of my cheeks are hollow. If you can imagine, I had
shadows across my cheeks which distracted a lot from my appearance. And
I thought, "Well let me see about this mesotherapy." I asked for the
phone number and proceeded to make the appointment.
After talking with the aesthetician (she was a
physician assistant), we agreed that she would give me what they called
an "meso-lift" on the cheeks. I was given the numbing cream and in a
few minutes, she was injecting me with a cocktail of different
solutions which supposedly would shrink fat cells (danger zone, I
should have recognized!) and vitamins that would be good for my skin.
She told me that with mesotherapy, I should expect a good amount of
swelling and some bruising.
Good amount indeed! Overnight, my face swelled up
like a chipmunk's-- no, like a helium balloon. I could not recognize
me! I had a lot of bruising and swelling on the injection sites and ALL
OVER my face where it wasn't even treated.
Let me backtrack. When I made the mesotherapy
appointment, I has no intention of telling my husband. I was under the
impression that I could pull this off and explain the "slight" swelling
and bruising to a bad facial procedure. Well, so much for that! By
night time the swelling was bad enough that my husband refused to take
me out to dinner. He told me that I looked like a battered wife!
Go to rest of my
Mesotherapy Experience
