I’d Rather Stick Needles in My Eyes - Tried and Tested - Botox
Let me be frank. As a parent, I’ve used that phrase quite a bit. There are times when my daughter is channeling her inner-popstar and after 2 hours of listening to her Boom! Clap, Bang Bang - or tell me how it’s All About That Bass (with attempted twerking) I may text my hubby that, I’d rather stick needles in my eyes than watch one more rendition of Shake It Off. Clearly, I don’t mean it. My children, like your children are precious and brilliantly talented, but 2 hours could make any mom threaten to take desperate measures.
However, it turns out there are things I actually dislike so much that I’m willing to use that phrase with total honesty. Among those things are wrinkles. You can tell me how they ‘add character’ and how lines help people read your expressions, but I’m willing to simply tell people how I’m feeling. Like I’ll say, “I know you cannot tell by the look on my face (or lack thereof), but I’m pretty (angry, pissed, happy, overjoyed…) right now. And by the way, don’t I look young?”
I walked into the office of my board-certified plastic surgeon, and a woman down the hall was wincing in pain. And by wincing, I mean wailing. What is happening in there? Are they bloodletting? Pulling off leeches? Removing her skin and then shining it up and putting it back on? I should probably leave. What’s wrong with wrinkles anyway? Wrinkles say, “Hey look, this woman is wise, she’s lived a little, she clearly smiles a lot … and scowls a lot.” Yep, the last one got me to stay glued in my seat as I have what they call “the elevens,” which are those two lines above your nose that make you look like you furrow and scowl with worry at all times, which is in no way ironic because I usually am doing just that. The irony is in the fact that the lines also worried me, which led to them become deeper and led me to worry more. You can see the vicious cycle it becomes!
“Doc, I’m worried that these lines make me look worried.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. And he didn’t mean it the way a doctor responds to “Doc, my arm hurts when I go like this.” He meant it as in, don’t worry — making those lines go away is child’s play.
“I’m worried this will hurt.”
“I’m worried my face will freeze and didn’t my parents always threaten that would happen??? Which must mean it’s a bad thing.”
“I’m worried I’ll have no expression, and that people will constantly cock their heads from side to side like Terriers, trying to decipher what my stance is on something – or what the actual point I’m trying to get across is.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt, you’ll be able to move your face, and only small dogs will be confused by you,” he responded.
He put on some numbing cream in the areas where I may have needed a shot (it seemed like lots of areas). He had me scrunch and release (like facial Kegels) and then he stuck needles in my eyes… Well, between my eyes, and near my nose, forehead, around my eyes - and one to take out a smoker’s line above my lip, which seems like an unfair wrinkle since I never smoked. That one had no numbing cream and though it hurt, it wasn’t so bad.
That was a few years ago — though I never found out what the woman in the room next door was in for - (impromptu amputation)? I’ve been back about every 3-6 months since. So far, no one is confused by my emotions, (trust me, my kids know when I’m mad, though my daughter still can’t tell when I’m bored to tears). The pain is minimal and my face still moves. Yes, I still have wrinkles (AKA character) — they’re just softer and more subtle.
So far I’m a fan. If you’re considering it, please realize how much a qualified well-trained doctor can do with the stuff. I’m talking everything from lifting and lowering brows to strategically being minimal around the forehead to make sure you maintain movement, to helping with neck banding. I’m just saying: be really careful who you let stick needles in (around) your eyes. I think I read that on a pillow once — and one should always believe what they read on pillows.