Yet this evening I was there for a treatment.
My 'Not Fat At 30' campaign has been faltering. With only myself to blame. Yet, last week the campaign took a (perhaps slightly) bizarre twist. After replying to a message asking for a man with 'moobs', I was asked to take part in a case study that should see me be slightly less fat (around the chest area, anyway!).
So tonight was the first treatment in a course of 8. I got myself up to the clinic in decent time and checked myself in. I was given 3 forms to fill out, which I did. These places are used mostly by women, and the forms proved this with questions about 'cycles' and stuff. Clearly, being the proper grown up I am, I answered all of the questions on my forms. I'm sure the clinic will be pleased to know I don't suffer from a 'heavy flow'.
In the clinic waiting room, I felt really out of my comfort zone. A scruffy, overweight, beardy electrician sat in a place like this sticks out like a sore thumb. Still, it was only me there, so not to worry!
Oh. Actually. Wait a moment. Ah yes, I've come on (what you'd call at school) an open evening. Now, when I arrived, I was offered some water. I was ok, so declined. But as the glamorous looking ladies arrived for 'open evening', they were being greeted with wine and strawberries. I'm not complaining. I don't like wine anyway. But it felt a bit uncomfortable being there when these people were arriving at this lovely looking place, being greeted in such a way, and then they have to take a seat next to me. My saving grace at this moment, I feel, was my work jumper. They see it says 'Hopkins Electrical' on it, and assume I'm there to work, not there for a treatment.
After the first lot of people dispersed in to various rooms for consultations, 2 more women arrive. They get their wine and strawberries and talk to the manager, who offers one of them some kind of facelift (which, by the looks of it, was done with some kind of 'love bite' machine). So one sits down on a little treatment table and the other sits next to me. This is where they spy a poster advertising 'Strawberry Laser Lipo', which has before and after pictures of a female bottom area and a male chest area, and have a good old chuckle. One says to the other 'as if any man's going to come somewhere like this to have his moobs done!', after which ensues more giggling. This is the point where I'm called in for my treatment. The Strawberry Laser Lipo on my moobs....
The treatment was performed by a lovely lady called Sharon. We had a chat, I got semi naked for her, she took pictures of me, she drew on my chest and then took some measurements. After explaining what would happen for the treatment, I got on the treatment table and had the clever laser thing (technical term) strapped to my chest. It kind of looked like something a suicide bomber would wear, but it was comfortable enough and it was lovely and warm.
Anyway, 10 minutes later I'm up and getting measured again. In those 10 minutes, this suicide bomber's waistcoat has lasered just under an inch of moob off. And I'm told after I do my 20 mins of cardio (which I've now done), they may shrink even more.
Good, huh?
I have 7 more treatments to go now. I'm hoping they shrink enough moob quickly enough to say 'oh, we'll just take a few inches of that beast of a tummy off, too', but I doubt it'll go that quick! Every little helps now, so I'll be grateful whatever the outcome!
xxx
