Almost as popular as my Amerisleep mattress reviews, the Jessner chemical peel post here on my blog has been a reader favorite for years. I'm still doing my own peels at home and still recommend this to anyone concerned about acne scars or wrinkles. However, last night I did have a Jessner peel scare.
As written before, timing is everything with a chemical peel. You don't want pieces of dead skin (yuck, right?) flaking off at work or at important social events. I've wanted to do one for months but things kept getting in the way, like extra days spent at work and our recent trip to California. Finally, last night I was able to treat myself to an at-home Jessner peel. (Using this product from Amazon, in case you want to try it for yourself.) I've done this so many times that the steps are automatic. I applied three layers of Jessner solution, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Snuggled into our new mattress and a mountain of blankets, I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed vivid dreams.
Everything was going great. I was on a cruise ship that had departed from New Mexico, which seemed perfectly plausible, and some handsome guy was flirting with me. (Apparently, SN didn't make in on board. Sorry, my love!) Cute dogs were running along the deck. Friends from elementary school were sipping drinks in the lounge. I didn't have any seasickness (a surefire indication this was only a dream) and we were charting a course for Australia. It all seemed so real. Then, I reached up and touched my cheek. And there was nothing there.
I rubbed both hands across my face, first slowly, then frantically when I could not feel my chin or my nose. It was gone. All gone! Instead of smooth skin, all I felt were rough ridges and a sticky, clammy ooze. I rushed to a mirror, where my reflection was more Freddie Krueger-esque than I'd feared. My entire face had been eaten away by acid, exposing all of the blood-red muscle below.
I woke up with my heart pounding and even yipped "MY FACE!" out loud. With both hands, I reached up. I was surprised to feel my chin, just as it should be, and the soft fuzz on my cheeks. The Jessner peel is self-neutralizing, I reminded myself. You don't need to wash it off. I slowed my breathing and tried to get that ridiculous dream out of my mind, wanting to go back to sleep. I should really get up and make sure my face is all still there, just to be safe. It was absurd. I kept willing my brain to move on. I was not getting up. I was going back to sleep.
Long story short, that's how I ended up examining my not-at-all damaged skin in the mirror at 1:25 am and why you should never, ever administer an at-home Jessner peel immediately before going to bed.
P.S.
SN just looked over my shoulder and chuckled at the zombie girl picture. "What is she doing to her boobs?" I asked him.
"They need support so that is what she is doing. Supporting them."
Men.
As written before, timing is everything with a chemical peel. You don't want pieces of dead skin (yuck, right?) flaking off at work or at important social events. I've wanted to do one for months but things kept getting in the way, like extra days spent at work and our recent trip to California. Finally, last night I was able to treat myself to an at-home Jessner peel. (Using this product from Amazon, in case you want to try it for yourself.) I've done this so many times that the steps are automatic. I applied three layers of Jessner solution, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Snuggled into our new mattress and a mountain of blankets, I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed vivid dreams.
Everything was going great. I was on a cruise ship that had departed from New Mexico, which seemed perfectly plausible, and some handsome guy was flirting with me. (Apparently, SN didn't make in on board. Sorry, my love!) Cute dogs were running along the deck. Friends from elementary school were sipping drinks in the lounge. I didn't have any seasickness (a surefire indication this was only a dream) and we were charting a course for Australia. It all seemed so real. Then, I reached up and touched my cheek. And there was nothing there.
I rubbed both hands across my face, first slowly, then frantically when I could not feel my chin or my nose. It was gone. All gone! Instead of smooth skin, all I felt were rough ridges and a sticky, clammy ooze. I rushed to a mirror, where my reflection was more Freddie Krueger-esque than I'd feared. My entire face had been eaten away by acid, exposing all of the blood-red muscle below.
I woke up with my heart pounding and even yipped "MY FACE!" out loud. With both hands, I reached up. I was surprised to feel my chin, just as it should be, and the soft fuzz on my cheeks. The Jessner peel is self-neutralizing, I reminded myself. You don't need to wash it off. I slowed my breathing and tried to get that ridiculous dream out of my mind, wanting to go back to sleep. I should really get up and make sure my face is all still there, just to be safe. It was absurd. I kept willing my brain to move on. I was not getting up. I was going back to sleep.
I looked everywhere for a suitable image for this post (it's not like I have any photos of myself without a face, after all) and was so happy to find this one, this perfect one on Pixabay of a girl who'd clearly had her chemical peel go seriously wrong. But what is she doing to her boobs??
Long story short, that's how I ended up examining my not-at-all damaged skin in the mirror at 1:25 am and why you should never, ever administer an at-home Jessner peel immediately before going to bed.
P.S.
SN just looked over my shoulder and chuckled at the zombie girl picture. "What is she doing to her boobs?" I asked him.
"They need support so that is what she is doing. Supporting them."
Men.