Lately, my hormones have been out of whack. As a result, around that time of the month, my skin goes berserk. One particular outbreak left a scar on my chin, so I asked friends to recommend a good dermatologist. I used to go to Doctors Trinidad and Salud but, now that they are getting on in years, I thought I'd try someone new. BFF, Rosan Cruz, wanted to try out Luminisce, a skin clinic at BGC whose name I cannot pronounce, that utilizes the latest technology from South Korea, the land of perfect, poreless skin, so I thought I'd give it a whirl too.
Photos c/o Luminisce.
We filled out forms that included a questionnaire on skin regimen (soap and water, otherwise, non-existent) and what we wanted to achieve (even skin tone).
We were then ushered into separate rooms.
A doctor came to talk to me and recommended that I do their Baby Skin treatment. (Rosan went for the Therma Lift.) She explained what it was which, of course, flew right over my head, so I asked questions as she and her staff went along with the procedure.
They started with a facial. I don't really do facials but always enjoy them when I do. They cleaned my face and the light massage on my temples felt so good that I wished it had gone on for a bit longer. And then they used this machine that is supposed to get rid of superficial blackheads and white heads, and it actually felt really nice on the skin and wasn't intrusive at all.
After the facial, things got interesting. I'll call this part, "The Rise of the Machines."
They rolled one machine out and replaced it with another. They covered my face with what felt like gauze and used this metallic roller sort of thing that supposedly emits electric currents to stimulate the collagen underneath the skin. Which felt really good, especially around the cheeks, but was another story around the forehead. The doctor warned that I might be extra sensitive around the bonier parts of my face, but I thought that I was getting zapped around the area that wasn't covered by the gauze, where the metallic thing was in direct contact with my skin. Suffice it to say that I now know that I am not a fan of electrocution, no matter how mild.
This wasn't the device, but it looked similar. (Internet file photo.)
And then that machine was brought out and another rolled in. This one emitted steam to open up my pores. That was fun! It felt like feathers on my face!
And then it was time for the main machine.
Photo c/o Luminisce.
The doctor made it a point to show me the plastic roller that they were going to use, I guess, to prove that no knives or instruments of torture would be used in the procedure. She showed me how harmless it was, reassuring me that it wouldn't cut into the epidermis but that the laser would create micro channels in the skin for easier absorption of the meds they were going to apply which, in my case, was retinol.
I guess that elaborate explanation should have clued me in that the experience wouldn't be entirely pleasant but, typically, that didn't register. Holymotherofgod, that hurt! No wonder she told me it wouldn't cut into the epidermis because it sure felt like it! She assured me it wouldn't take very long and that it would only sting for a while. It felt like a tiny car made entirely of razor blades was running the Indy 500 across my face. Gaaah! I thought the retinol would calm it down, but it made it sting even more.
Then they wheeled that machine out and replaced it with one that emitted red light to speed up the healing of my skin.
The doc told me that there would be some down time because of the redness, so I checked in the mirror. I was pretty sure that they had cut me, but I was only a little bit red. By the time I got to my dinner date later in the evening, my skin was fine and no one could tell that someone had roller razor-bladed on my face only a few hours earlier.
At Toyo Eatery that evening, sans make-up, with Manila gal pals, Malu Gamboa and Mia Tambunting-Padilla. Rosan was also supposed to be at dinner but had to cancel at the last minute because she had to sub for a yoga teacher on the other side of town.
I was instructed to leave my face alone for the next six hours and that I should resume my regular (non-existent) skin care regimen the next day (- they stated moisturizer and toner, none of which I own), adding the rest of the bottle of retinol that they used on me for the next two weeks.
It's been a week and a day now. They encouraged me to do a before-and-after photo, which I declined but, of course, now regret not doing. Because I’m not sure if it's just wishful thinking, but I could have sworn that my face was much clearer and had a “glow” about it the next few days. I kept checking out my skin in the mirror, trying to remember if it had been as smooth before. The scar is visibly lighter, that much I’m sure of.
They recommend the treatment every two weeks, and then maybe once a month after a few months. If I could afford it, which I can't (- it's more than a bit pricey so an as-needed basis every few thousand years is as much as I can commit to), I'd be interested to see what results a year of facial electrocution and laser "micro-wounds" can produce.