“This is going to hurt just a little bit,” my doctor says, brandishing a needle and a syringe.
I brace myself, squeezing my thumb to divert some attention from the incoming pain, as she pricks my skin. There is some pressure and discomfort, as she squeezes the syringe to dispense hyaluronic acid to fill in the sunken space under my eye.
She pulls back, and I let out the breath I have been holding. She holds up a handheld mirror for me to check out my face. The fillers I have just gotten have smoothed out my eye bags. I look more awake and a little more alive.
“Looks good, yeah,” my doctor tells me. “Not so sleepy-looking anymore.”
I agree, then pay and leave.