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I Got Needles Stuck In My Butt to Get Rid of Cellulite. Here's What Happened

There's a new FDA-approved cellulite treatment that might just blast away fat forever. We put it to the test to find out
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The Consultation
Though the procedure is minimally invasive, you can't just show up on your plastic surgeon's doorstep and expect the procedure that day.

First, you have to go through a consultation. Dr. Stevens evaluated my cellulite, and asked me where my problem areas were. All I could think was, you're literally a stranger staring at my butt, can't you see where my problem areas are? I pointed everywhere from my mid-thigh up, putting special focus on one particularly obnoxious crater on my right butt cheek.

His assessment of my problem areas? "Way harsh, Tai." While he didn't actually quote "Clueless," he did tell me that my cellulite definitely wasn't as bad as I was making it sound. And, in fact, most of the women who come in for this procedure are equally as hard on their cellulite.

According to Stevens, there are five different types of cellulite (pictured here). Mine was type three -- the lowest level he'll treat with Cellfina. Anything less, and he turns people away. But it doesn't just come down to how much cellulite you have; it also depends on the type. While Cellfina can help get rid of dimpled cellulite, it really can't do anything for wavy cellulite. Wavy cellulite is exactly what it sounds like: instead of skin being dimpled, it looks like it has waves running across it.

I left feeling much better about my body, but even more excited about the prospect of a cellulite-free future.

Images via Marina Plastic Surgery

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Pre-Cellfina Jitters
After booking my Cellfina procedure, I received an email detailing what to expect on and leading up to the big day:

• Do not take aspirin or aspirin-containing products (Advil or Motrin, Aleve or Excedrin), vitamin E capsules or herbal and diet supplements (including fat burners) two weeks prior to surgery.

• Do avoid sunbathing and excessive sun exposure for at least one week prior to surgery. This also includes the use of tanning salons.

• Do wear loose, dark-colored, comfortable clothing, a top that buttons down the front or zips up, and easy slip-on shoes on the day of the procedure.

• Do not wear any jewelry.

• Do not apply makeup, eye shadow, perfumes, creams, moisturizers or hairspray after you bathe on the morning of your surgery. Have your hair simply combed back and wear no hairpins.

• Do have an adult with you that will drive you home.

The exhaustive list of dos and don'ts made Cellfina seem much scarier than I expected. After scanning the documents and waivers, my appointment became real -- and I began to have second thoughts.

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The Day of Reckoning
I showered, according to the instructions. While in there, I scowled at my cellulite-y butt, pinching it to make the dimples more apparent (what, like you haven't done it?). Today's the day you're gone, I thought to myself.

My boyfriend dropped me off at Marina Plastic Surgery, with the promise to return when summoned via text. Wearing loose fitting clothes, my hair pulled back into a wet bun, no makeup or moisturizer (as instructed) and a nervous-yet-excited attitude, I made my way into the building.

Once inside, it was a surreal experience. The people coming in and out of the doctor's office were on a first-name basis with the nurses and technicians. It felt like everyone had been there many times before. "Happy" by Pharrell played in the background, an eerie juxtaposition to the medical procedures being displayed on the giant flat screen in the lobby.

Since they had instructed me to wear nothing cosmetic on my body, I wasn't wearing deodorant, which was not-so-excellent when my nerves -- and sweat glands -- kicked in. What are you doing here, I thought. After all, I can hardly get a flu shot without entering a state of panic. How was I going to endure 30 minutes of needle-prodding?

Before I could bolt, my name was called. My nurse, sensing my jitters (and likely smelling them at this point), was very friendly and soothing. I gave myself a mental face-slap and told myself to get it together. Then, I stripped down and put on a hospital gown and a very tiny and unflattering pair of black underwear. It was time for the "photo booth."

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The Before Photos
When walking from my changing room to the photo room, I saw more boobs than I saw at Mardi Gras (though less than I've seen on "Game of Thrones"). I quickly figured out that they belonged to women who were getting before and after photos of breast augmentations. Rather than making me uncomfortable, seeing so much flesh put me at ease. Nudity is not an issue here -- the doctors and technicians have seen it all. Exposing my dimply butt suddenly seemed less terrifying -- and the entire experience felt incredibly freeing.

Once I got into the photo room, I took off my robe and stood in front of the camera wearing only my bra and the teeny underwear they provided me. The technician had me stand at different angles, and took photos of my thighs and butt at each one. I then had to repeat the process with my butt clenched (to really make the cellulite stand out). Just the thing to really boost a girl's confidence.

That's when Dr. Stevens came in with his Sharpie to mark up the spots where they would perform the treatment. (There were a lot -- 28, to be exact.)



Then it was off to the operating room.

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The Procedure
Once in the operating room, it was time for the underwear -- and any sense of embarrassment -- to come completely off. I lied facedown on the table, my bum totally exposed, a full moon for all to see. Two technicians arrived and began to cover up all the parts of me that weren't being operated on (so, basically, they covered my calves). Then a resident came in. Between them, the doctor and the woman taking my photos, I honestly don't think so many people have ever seen my butt in one day.

Because you don't go under anesthesia for the treatment, you're free to listen to music/read a magazine/catch up on emails. Since my bare ass was out on the table, I felt weird casually pulling up some No Doubt on my iPhone and just lying there like it was NBD. Plus, I was technically working, so I figured I could use the time to get some questions answered and kill two cellulite dimples with one stone.

Once it was go time, they attached a suction machine to a spot that had been marked for removal. While my skin was suctioned up, they injected it with a numbing agent. Ironically, this was the most painful part of the procedure. It was kind of like getting an extended shot, multiple times. Luckily, it didn't burn (they add something to the local anesthesia, for which I am incredibly grateful). This was repeated for each of the 28 spots, starting at my thighs and moving up to my butt. Honestly, after the first few, it wasn't too bad -- until they got to my butt, which is apparently a sensitive place for everyone and hurt like hell.

Once my lower body was sufficiently numb, Dr. Stevens used the Cellfina machine to sever the connective tissue causing my cellulite -- which sounds scarier than it is. "The Cellfina system treats the connective bands woven throughout the fat that pull down the skin, creating dimpling seen on the skin's surface," explained Dr. Stevens. " Similar to a rubber band under tension, once released, the treated skin bounces back to smooth itself out."

It was over in just a few minutes, and I felt nothing throughout the entire procedure. I even took what they call a "Cellfina Selfie."

Then, so I could get off the bed, my legs and butt were smooshed (yes, that's the technical term) to get as much of the local anesthetic out of me as possible. TMI time: the anesthesia leaks -- for lack of a better term -- out of the tiny holes the needles and the Cellfina machine have made. Not out of your butt or various other private parts, like my editors assumed when I emailed them about how the procedure went.

Honestly, the worst part of the whole procedure (besides seeing my blood on the operating table) was being bandaged up and shoved into compression pants, which I wasn't allowed to remove until my post-op appointment the next day. Let's just say that going to the bathroom was very inconvenient, and leave it at that.

BY ALLIE FLINN | MAR 1, 2016 | SHARES
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