The assessment

April 25th 2013

About a little over a year ago I was a temp looking for a job.  Armed with 10+ years of experience, a gut full of butterflies and a loyal-to-the-teeth network of friends and previous co-workers, I was offered a job opportunity via OfficeTeam. I'd worked internally for the parent company, Robert Half, and had somehow impressed them during my tenure there. I was a "proven performer"; a candidate that had been placed before and had done well enough that I could be trusted in a position not so easy to fill. In short, they think I rock.

Totally accurate Bistrip of me. Except my drums are pink. And dusty from lack of use.

As any pretentious good candidate will do, I researched the company at which I was to interview.  ZELTIQ Aesthetics (shameless plug: www.coolsculpting.com) was intriguing from the first page. There was a machine that could extract heat from fat cells, (cryolypolysis) thereby causing fat cell death (apoptosis), which your body would then naturally process, without surgery, and without general anesthesia, without real downtime, without damaging other tissue, and could be done on a long lunch hour?!  Why hadn't I heard of this before? Does it really work? Is there pain? Who cares? It's cheaper than lypo and I'm lazy and broke - not really, well, sort of.

I guess my enthusiasm and curiosity served me well, and I started assisting the new CFO within a week.  In that position, I've gotten a good overview not just of the medical device industry in general, but also in the aesthetics industry.  There are a few non-surgical fat reduction options out there, many as new, or newer than Coolsculpting (insert trademark symbol here, and imply it at all other mentions of the procedure).  I realize it's biased to say so, but the others seemed to fall short, both due to loyalty to my employer, and to the independent research I'd done for hours after work crawling around the web.

I'm so enthusiastic about it, that I've talked about it extensively. To family. To friends. At parties. To strangers that wonder who I am and why I'm talking about it while waiting in line for a bathroom stall. But everyone has asked me, "Did you do it?" and "What is it like?" and  "Does it work?"  I knew it produced results, we couldn't legally make claims without research, the FDA has approved it, and we wouldn't have reputable doctors with successful practices as repeat customers if it didn't. I've seen pages and pages and pages of before and after pictures.  But I couldn't honestly comment on the procedure experience.  I'd spoken with others who'd had done it, but all my answers to those outside the company were second-hand regurgitations of what I'd been told.  A "friend told me..." or "those I've spoken to have said..."

I don't think she believes me. Must be that little fib I told her about how vegetables taste like ice cream...

People are reluctant to believe such things when they don't know the person that gave the information.  Reliable sources are only as reliable as their reputation. And if the person is unknown, most wise folks take such claims with a grain of salt.

 *Tangent!* Who clicks on those blinky flashy ads on hinky sites anyway?! "Lose ten pounds in 5 minutes with this one weird trick!" Don't do it! They'll give you viruses and you'll get the blue screen of death, right after they spam your entire contact list, and then the $39.99 you paid for the "trick" will get you some nasty ass vinegar and oatmeal recipe that you have to consume at 3:00am Eastern Standard Time every other Tuesday, unless it's a leap year. And when it doesn't work, they'll ignore you when you try to contact "customer service",  steal your credit card number, rape your bank account and laugh. Sounds like a trick to me, too. *End Tangent!*

When the opportunity arose for me to have the procedure, I jumped at it.  I'm early middle-aged, have had three children, and despite eating fairly well, and exercising (not really) regularly, I'm fighting the spare tire paunch that haunts so many of us.  As a woman, I've always been self-conscious about what I look like.  I'm short, my behind is quite round, I have spindly calves, my elbows are dry, my fingers are awkward, one eyebrow is thinner than the other, my pores are cavernous, my eyelids are starting to sag...etc.  Add to that the fact that I work with some SERIOUSLY attractive people, 2 of which I've dubbed the Glamazon Twins as they're younger, thinner, taller and in really good shape - I look like a Hobbit standing beside two Galadriels. Here was an opportunity to make a dent in that formidable hill of my physical self-esteem.

This is what Disneyland looks like to people my height. (slight exaggeration - maybe)

My assessment went smoothly.  I know the people that work in the clinic fairly well as I've worked with them previously. I filled out a metric ton of paperwork that assessed my medical health, history, and habits.

I was measured for the procedure, as different issues require different applicator sizes.  Lucky me (not), my muffin-top spare tire required the largest applicator.  "This is nicely rounded, it should get a good draw." Sounds like a compliment, but really it just meant my gut was big enough that it would easily fill a very large suction device...

After the assessment, I was told I'd be contacted for an appointment, and I went back to work, both mortified and hopeful.