Smoke… and tears

Yesterday was my latest last hair removal appointment in Belfast… which, from arrival until departure, lasted three hours! We always have some lovely, friendly chat after the treatment,  and particularly so this time. After the last session, when I felt my face had not had a serious workout I asked her to do it all one setting up, so upper lip (most sensitive area) was up to 18 and the rest of the face was 20; quite an increase from the initial session which was 8-10. All the blasts were very sharp, but at the end my face felt it had a much better going over; fingers crossed over the next few weeks, turning up yesterday my cheeks and lower neck were certainly patchy, but I wish progress was better. Then she blasted my chest, from neck line to the base of my bra at 30, the maximum setting possible for my hair type/colour, then she did my centre-back at 30 on red-hair setting with an additional pulse which translates to above maximum setting! With all that blasting there was a serious amount of burning smells, and some frazzled hairs, which is good!

After my face was done I was lying with cooler packs on my face after she had asked about my counselling (the one with the emotional abuse statement) and I filled up with tears until they overflowed. Later, as my back was being cooled after blasting, I told her about that counselling and, well, let’s just say she was not at all impressed by what the counsellor had said. Once we were done we had a really long chat, mostly I was doing the chat with lots of catch up of events over the past month, and after a while she was handing out tissues for me to mop my face of tears and blow my nose. She is such a good listener, so open-minded, she feels like a friend… even if at the end of my appointments (whenever that is) I don’t suppose we will communicate; I think she is such a lovely person, I feel I am so lucky to have her treating me. Then I asked after her; she says she has one or two regrets in life (I expect many of us do, and I will certainly not mention hers) but if I was related to her I would not be able to be prouder of her.

Eventually we both left once she was locked up, I helped her carry her stuff downstairs, and I knew she was just dying to show me her new car… and I sure knew why when I saw it in the metal, a lovely mini coupe in red/black. I even got to sit in it, it is a seriously cool set of wheels (very similar to that shown in picture below) – a special car for a special lady.images (1)

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