Depleted My Checking Account Getting Pico Laser Treatment Today

I should know the full official name of the laser, but I don't. It's just called pico. The machine said Pico Way on it.

Went to San Francisco, the shit took forever because the bus route is stupid and meanders through like four different towns instead of going straight there, then there are like six billion stops in SF before my stop.

I got into the city an hour and a half early and went looking for some cheap food. I managed to get some money from a payday advance loan place, but my income is so low that I qualified for only fifty bucks. That's enough to get me through the month. Barely. I won't be paying my energy bill or my Internet service bill (for the second month in a row, in both cases), but I have enough to buy some more vitamin d3 (without which I'll be a fatigued wreck in a week or so) and pay my phone bill.

I wanted some hot food, so I walked a couple of blocks back to the Filipino food truck I'd seen on the way to my bus stop. French fries was the only recognizably vegan food on the menu. I could have asked whether any of the lumpia or the egg rolls were vegan, but I didn't feel like it (some people don't even know what veganism is), plus that shit was too expensive. The truck looked kinda dirty (like most food trucks do), and my devotion to my diet won out and I decided to get a protein bar (which has more protein and fewer calories than french fries, and is also something I can buy with food stamps).

So I put my money away and walked back to my bus stop, right in front of which is a department store that used to sell Clif energy bars. The store had only boxes of protein bars, and I didn't want to blow money on that, so I ended up leaving without buying anything. I looked for some sunglasses because I'd left mine on the bus (which is a big deal because sunlight gives me migraines) but the ones that didn't look stupid cost too much money. I seriously considered tiding myself over with some gimmicky children's fourth of July sunglasses, which were in the seasonal product section and cost just one dollar, but they were too stupid-looking to bear.

By the time I left that store, I had only half an hour to get to my appointment, and I didn't even know exactly which way I was going. As I was walking in the general direction, I saw a Trader Joe's (a grocery store I love and shop at every month. place has cheap gourmet and specialty items). So I dodged in there like lightning and got a peanut butter Protein Builder's bar, then went outside and pulled out the map. I got turned around because the stupid streets intersect at an angle and threw off my bearing, and I'd walked a block the wrong way and was stopped at the corner examining my map when a lady asked me whether I needed help. I said yes even though I was worried I'd waste time talking to her. She pulled out her smart phone and pointed me in the right direction. Fortunately, I was only a block and a half away from the dermatologist's office.

I rushed to the office. The receptionist said that I was early, so I sat on the couch and waited, bored. I was sort of embarrassed to be in their office because my backpack, which I'd worn on a long walk on a hot day (the first day I'd gone into town to get the loan but had had to leave empty-handed because I hadn't had my checking account information), smelled like sweat. I couldn't tell for sure, but maybe my hoodie did/does (still wearing it) as well.

Finally, a nurse came for me and we went into an exam room. I was happy to be able to hang my bag up behind the door, across the room from where we were. I signed a release form and then she asked me whether I wanted my whole face done. I was confused for a bit because I'd gone in specifically to have my most recent hyperpigmentation worked on, and that's clearly not all over my face. She started quoting me prices depending on how much of my face I wanted done, and I told her that, during my consultation, I'd been told that the procedure was seven hundred bucks period, not different prices depending on coverage.

Anyways, eventually she put the numbing cream on most of my face, but I had to ask her to do the forehead as well. She said my forehead didn't look bad, and, yes, the hydroquinone I've been using this past month improved it greatly, but the part just above my eyebrows is still visibly darker (to me at least) than the rest of my forehead. So then I had to sit there for twenty minutes to wait for the numbing cream to work.

The receptionist came in and had me sign three things she'd allegedly forgotten to have me sign before. Everything I sign on this place is a digital document on a tablet. She didn't give me time to read them. I could have insisted on reading them first, I've done it before, but I didn't bother. She said she'd email me copies so whatever. So I signed the tablet, she left, and I sat there bored and tried to rest, but the fluorescent lights penetrated my closed eyelids.

The nurse came back, wiped the numbing cream off my face (at no point while I was in the office did my face feel numb), then asked me to close my eyes and wiped my face with alcohol. Then the doctor came in, we exchanged pleasantries, I couldn't think of any questions to ask, so he got down to it. The laser he used had been sitting a few feet away from me the whole time I'd been in the exam room, humming a bit loudly.

Someone put my chair back so that I was lying down. The nurse put very small and tight goggles over my eyes. The doctor said he would go slowly at first and that I should tell him how I felt. I was prepared for mild pain, but that's not exactly what I got. The laser did feel like very, very light pinpricks, but a light tickling was the predominant sensation, and I was a bit afraid I'd jerk because of it. It was a very odd feeling. I thought I smelled something metallic, but the doctor said I might smell the singeing of my own facial hair, so I guess it was a burning I smelled. He also said I would feel burning, but I didn't until a few minutes after he'd gone over the first side of my face, then the other side started burning once he was done with the procedure.

The doctor kept asking me questions while he was lasering, and this bothered me because I thought that moving my facial muscles (to talk) might cause problems with the procedure. The whole thing took maybe five minutes total, despite his supposedly going over my skin twice (as he said he was doing). He told me that the part of my forehead just above the pigmentation was also a bit dark, and he asked me whether I wanted him to go over it. I did, but I said no, worried that they'd charge me extra and not wanting to ask about it. I know that it isn't seriously dark; it'll fade, so whatever.

So it was over way sooner than I'd anticipated. They gave me a bag of ice to hold against my face and the doctor told me what to expect: no visible results for a couple of weeks. I'm supposed to not use the hydroquinone for a week and not pick at, peel, scrub, or scratch my face. I can't use toner, exfoliants, bleaching crap, or anti-aging crap. I'm supposed to use cleanser, moisturizer, and sunscreen only. The little half-page of after-care instructions says I can use makeup as well. The release I'd signed had said something about peeling, but I asked the doctor and he said I wouldn't peel. OK. Makes me wonder whether they had me sign the correct release.

They left me to ice my face for a few minutes, then the nurse came back with some crazy high SPF sunscreen (70 SPF, which I'd never even seen or heard of before), and a towelette for me to wipe my face (why, I'm not sure, so I didn't use it). I put the sunscreen on and followed her out to reception, where I paid my five hundred bucks using two different debit cards.

I got out of there sooner than I'd anticipated, but the stupid inter-city bus I take comes only every hour I guess, at least during the afternoon, so I ended up waiting for half an hour. It was exasperating because a route of the local bus arrived like literally every two minutes. During the time I was at that bus stop, maybe ten or twelve people total boarded that local bus. These buses were all almost empty. Given how large SF is and how many local routes must exist, it seems like a waste of money to run the bus that often.

My bus finally arrived and I started in on my ridiculously long trip home. I'd brought my bike from home and left it in a locker in case I'd miss the last bus back to my hometown. The bus from SF got me back to my county seat twenty minutes before the bus back to my hometown arrived. It was just barely enough time for me to rush the four blocks to puck up my bike, but I had to pee too badly and was too tired to rush, so I didn't get the bike. It's still sitting in the locker, over in another city, costing me nine cents an hour instead of the five cents an hour base rate because the stupid electronic menu doesn't allow enough time to increase the locker rental time before the screen changes. Actually, I think it isn't costing me anything because I accidentally ended the rental when I tried to increase the rental time. Hopefully whoever is in charge of the lockers doesn't notice and remove my bike. I'm pretty sure I have time to get it.

So I'm looking forward to seeing my results. If I ever get enough money, I'd love to get another pico treatment to make my face even more perfect. I guess I should first wait and see whether this treatment gives me any side effects, though. I'm not expecting any besides the bruising I was warned about.