After chemo, I lost all my body hair, including my pubic hair. So when it all started growing back, that did, too. So it was time for my first Brazilian. I knew they were painful but I was prepared. After two stem cell transplants, pick lines, ports, back surgery, four years of abuse, hey, I was a pain warrior-- I could handle anything, especially at a spa (my personal happy place).
So I scheduled my day at The Brick Canvas like this:
- 90 minutes of Bikram yoga
- 40 minutes of Brazilian wax treatment
- 60 minute facial
- Spa lunch
- 90 minute massage
After yoga, I took a long shower using peppermint-smelling shampoo (yum!), slipped into a plush bathrobe and spa slippers, and hung out in the quiet room sipping fruit-infused water, snacking on cashews and fresh coconut slices, and browsing through Style.
When my aesthetician called me back, I was ready. She gave me a few minutes to undress and get myself situated on the table before entering. It was awkward as I exposed my privates in a way only my doctors had seen. I had to hold what looked like a popsicle stick between my butt cheeks so she could wax that area. I closed my eyes and thought of beaches I had once visited, wishing myself elsewhere.
And then it happened.
Rip!!!! WTF was that?!? I almost flew off the table as the room went dark from pain. My head started spinning and I broke into an immediate sweat. "Oh my gosh!" I screamed. "OUCH!!!!"
"I know, sorry. It gets less painful the more you come in," she said. Rip again! This time I literally came off the table as my heart started pounding so hard I could hardly hear.
"Holy fuck! Ok, sorry I used that word but oh my gosh!" I screamed out again. The poor other guests must have been horrified at my use of language in this conservative Mormon community. "Ok, ok, slow down."
I used my yoga breathing techniques as I tried to center myself. "How much longer?"
"Oh, I'm really fast so it hurts for less time," she said. She started waxing my bikini line.
"Please count to three before you start back up," I begged.
"Why? It's easier if I just do it," she said. Before I could protest, rip!
This time, I was sure I was going to pass out. I had never felt such mind-numbing, acute pain.
By this time, I was drenched in sweat and I was sure that I was on the verge of a heart attack.
Rip!
Well, at least I learned to block out all outside "noise" and focus on my treatments. I looked down and was sure that she would have ripped off my skin and that I would be bleeding all over the floor. I was shocked to see my skin still there, just red and angry looking.
It was 30 minutes of complete torture. When it was done and Crissy left the room, the table sheets felt as if I had taken a shower on them. Thank goodness that I had the next three hours of heavenly treatments that followed.
The next time I got a Brazilian, I was ready. I had a tube of Lidocain and I rubbed it heavily about 15 minutes prior to my treatment. By the time Crissy waxed me up and pulled, I hardly felt a thing. But there was a down side-- for the next two hours, when I peed, I felt nothing. Very strange.
Morgan hates pubic hair and wants to get a Brazilian. Hello, you're 13 years old. Ask me again when you're 18.
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