Downtime musing

MANILA, Philippines - Would you trust a friend with your face? I did. And let’s just say the experience alone was worth it.

A few months ago, I agreed to be a “case study” for a friend who works with dermatologists. They needed three people who would undergo two different skin treatments — one laser, one peel — simultaneously on either cheek. I was one of these three people. Having suffered from acne-prone skin since I reached puberty, I was the perfect guinea pig. Exhibit A: uneven skin tone, occasional cystic zits, pimple marks, can-do attitude.

I arrived at the clinic of Dr. Stephen Lacson at Makati Medical Center for a consultation, but ended up having the two procedures done on the spot. I had an out-of-town assignment in two days, but decided it was better that strangers saw my face during “downtime” than friends. Friends can be cruel and judgmental. Strangers, only judgmental. So I went through with it.

First I had the Pixel laser treatment done on my left cheek. It’s a skin-resurfacing laser treatment that delivers microscopic beams to treat a fraction of the skin at a time — like altering an image on Photoshop pixel by pixel. Save for the initial panic of smelling burnt skin, it was quick and painless, and it only left grid-like marks and mild redness on my left cheek. My right cheek had something completely different coming.

I got a peeling

I transferred to another room for the Obagi Blue Peel treatment. As its name suggests, the peel is tinted blue so the dermatologist knows how much to put on the skin. Dr. Lacson layered it on my cheek until the mask became “frosted” — an indication that this was the right strength of peel for my skin’s needs. The peel stung. A single tear rolled down my cheek even as the derma’s assistant held a desk fan to my face to ease the stinging. The mask was left on for a few minutes and then wiped off, leaving a thin blue film. My cheek felt hot afterwards and demanded to always be in an air-conditioned room the rest of the day. It swelled and turned a scary shade of red when I went outdoors.

My derma told me that after two to three days, the skin on both cheeks would start to thicken, crack, and then peel. In other words, ma-aagnas. “Do not pull at the skin,” he warned. I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to resist pulling at crumbling skin. It was strangely satisfying.

In two days, I looked like a rotting zombie. The peel side was dark brown, almost bluish, looked like elephant skin and felt like plastic. The laser side looked like it was pressed against a waffle maker and felt like Braille. I went to my out-of-town assignment with 20 other people. None of them flinched when they saw me for the first time. None of them asked me why my face was that way. There I was, half-Smurf, half-waffle, but they made me feel like I was freaking Cate Blanchett.

In about a week and a half, all the dead skin had fallen off, and as promised, my face was lighter, more even-toned and old blemishes were almost invisible. Both the laser and the peel did their job, which meant the experiment was a success since the goal was to prove that the Blue Peel can do just as well as the Pixel laser treatment at a more affordable price.

The advantage of the laser treatment though, was that “downtime” was less unsightly, and it peeled more evenly since that is its claim to fame: to peel a fraction of skin at a time through a controlled release of laser pulses. The Blue Peel, however, seemed to have peeled off dead skin more aggressively — the skin on my right cheek was noticeably clearer and softer. So both have their advantages, it’s just a matter of asking your dermatologist which is better for your skin. To maintain its effects though, you have to do the laser or the peel at least once a year.

It was the worst of downtimes, it was the best of downtimes

For days, I covered my face with my hair, put on layers of foundation, and faced people with my better half (the laser half). But no one seemed to care. If anything, people were nicer to me than they usually are. Maybe they pitied me. Maybe they thought I was going through a tough time at home. Maybe I was too pathetic a sight to pick on. But to me there was no bigger reason behind having that face than pure vanity — a means towards getting the face I thought people wanted to see on me. But these people saw me at my worst and they did not care. What a revelation (and relief) that was!

Not only did those treatments renew the outer layer of my dermis, they also renewed my faith in humanity’s collective apathy towards each other’s business. We each have our own problem areas, our own insecurities. The spotlight won’t always be on us. While this is a little disappointing, it’s good to know that during the worst of moments, when we are most vulnerable and self-conscious, there is a chance that nobody will care — or mind. I was with a good group that didn’t mind eating across from someone who had skin hanging from her chin. And so I survived the worst of downtimes unscathed, save for a little peeling.