I recently went back to my aesthetician because I knew I had half of a vile of Juvederm left over from Christmastime when I had the tiny cavern between my eyebrows filled; it was about to expire and I couldn’t let it go to waste, that stuff is costly. When I asked Julie where I should put it, she stared pensively at my face for a moment and then let me have it. It sounded as if I needed a vile the size of a soda can to fill all of my problem areas. I decided that I was most mortified by the comment, “You could use it in your lips, they are pretty wrinkly,” so I went with the kisser.
Julie smeared the numbing cream on my lips and then we chit-chatted until my Bs started sounding like Ps and my Fs like Vs. I was ready for my injections!
Now, I can only fairly compare this kind of pain to that of the belly button piercing I endured in my twenties in which I embarrassingly fainted upon standing. Since that time, I learned the importance of breathing through the pain rather than holding my breath and consequently starving my brain of oxygen.
The initial pain of the needle entering my not-as-numb-as-I-would-have-liked lips was barely tolerable. It was when Julie said, “Ok, here it comes,” that I felt the burning sear of the filler entering my super-sensitive upper lip. Yeeeeeoooow! I had to seriously contemplate leaving with that bee-stung look on only the top left portion of my lips, but I decided to be a big girl and chant the old “beauty is pain” mantra while Julie stabbed the other three quarter zones.
The awkward feeling of foreign objects resting against my coffee cup lasted several days but soon enough the tenderness and lumpiness settled. I would say that next time I might opt for the dental block Julie offered me at the beginning of our appointment, but I am pretty sure there will not be a next time. Though, two weeks later I did have a slightly plumper pucker, I am not certain it was worth it. Talk to me in a few years when I have nothing but a thin line defining where my mouth is.