Gym refusnik Lisa Warren wonders if there's a miracle cure for flab that doesn't involve exercise. Could Snowberry Lane have the answer?
Frankly, I blame the kids. Before becoming pregnant I was a neat and effortless size 10: I could wolf down anything I fancied, never had to work out and generally took being slim for granted. This did not make me particularly popular among my more pear-shaped peers, but that was something I could live with.
Then I had the babies, not one of them smaller than 10lb, and everything changed. Perhaps I should have listened to the fresh-faced physiotherapist who appeared at my bedside mere minutes after the first birth, demanding that I join her in a series of vigorous post-natal stretches - but who among you who have emerged from the battlefield of childbirth will judge me for what I replied at the time?
I've lived to rue the day. Although I became an acceptable size 12, a persistent sagginess around the waist and hips meant that none of my clothes hung very well on me, especially jeans, bikinis were clearly a no-go. I wasn't happy with this but this unhappiness was not acute enough propel me to the gym and I had neither the funds nor inclination for nip-tucking. And as any mother will tell you, trying to diet in a house full of permanently hungry rug-rats requires a will of iron. The weight, and the sagginess stayed on.
Imagine then, how I pricked up my ears on learning that the first doctor in the UK to be qualified in SmartLipo was based in the Bath area, at Snowberry Lane in Melksham.
SmartLipo has recently gained huge popularity, for fairly obvious reasons. Unlike liposuction, which involves major surgery followed by about three weeks off work. SmartLipo - as the jaunty tagline 'lipo in your lunch hour' implies - means that you can return to the office/go shopping/pick up the kids, directly after having the procedure. It's minimally invasive, and it leaves no scars. Oh, and it's virtually painless.
Smartlipo works best if you're not wildly overweight but need to target stubborn areas - postnatal tummy, bingo wings, saggy chins.
After injecting local anaesthetic into the problem area, leaving you feeling comfortably numb, a 1mm laser is inserted through the skin at the point where the fat is to be reduced.
The laser is heated, so that it melts the membrane of the fat cells, causing them to break down. Some of this liquid fat is then aspirated - a gentle suction that removed it completely, which gives a semi-instant result: the remaining fat is naturally dispersed over a period of months. A side-effect of the procedure is the production of collagen which in turn leads to the tightening and smoothing of the skin.
First of all though, comes the ritual humiliation. Down come the stretch leggings and the offending flab is examined by the friendly and sympathetic Dr Gabriel. He reckons I am a suitable subject for treatment, though warns that it's unlikely that a completely flat stomach will ever be mine again - he can tackle the fat, but a fairly thick apron of skin has built up which is beyond the zapping power of the laser.
That's OK. I wasn't expecting a miracle - if I can drop a jeans size or at least look a lot better in my existing pair, I reckon it's worth a whirl.
Dr G takes the 'before' photos (page 79) and starts to draw on my offending flab with a pen. Assisted by Anne, who is both Snowberry Lane's senior nurse and Mrs Gabriel, he administers the local anaesthetic; there are lots of injections, but they're surprisingly un-painful.
The laser bit doesn't really hurt either, it just feels a bit tuggy. I've had far worse times at the dentist. I'm hardly aware of the aspiration process but Rupert triumphantly shows me the fat; he's aspirated a huge amount and I am encouraged.
Anne straps me into a stretchy corset which would be very Dita von Teese if it were black satin; sadly it's a fleshy Elastoplast colour and I look more Thora Hird. I am to wear this garment for a fortnight so that the skin, robbed of its fatty weight does not sag. Underneath, a couple of tiny holes are covered by sterile strips. I am also given a course of antibiotics in case of infection.
I was pretty bruised and certainly didn't want to do much more than flop on the sofa for the rest of the day. After that, however, it was business as usual with fairly regular check-ups with Dr G. After a couple of months, neither of us could see a vast difference but we kept the faith. I also embarked on a small diet, as well as a course of Velshaping (a collagen boosting treatment that feels a bit like being ironed) to help things along.
Eventually we did our final appraisal last month, almost a year after the treatment, comparing the 'befores' and 'afters'.
And boy, what a difference. As Dr G predicted, that apron of skin is still there, but the fat reduction has been dramatic. I'm slimmer and curvier and have regained my waist: colleagues and friends continually comment on my new shape. The even better news is that once the fat is off, it stays off: as The Beatles almost sang, it's Snowberry Lane forever.