MY O.C.
Best-Laid Plans A pandemic, botched Botox, and a hangover made for an interesting proposal. by Chelsea Raineri
M
y boyfriend, Sam, and I were planning to move from our Costa Mesa apartment to my aunt’s Irvine condo in March of last year. My aunt was moving after 31 years. Then COVID-19 stalled everything. Each day in quarantine, our 700-square-foot apartment felt smaller and smaller—we would only leave to walk our dog around the block or pick up takeout. The stress and uncertainty of the pandemic made my
TMJ flare. I would clench my jaw all day and night, causing migraines, jaw pain, and even ear pain. I learned it can also cause the muscles on the sides of your face to bulk up over the years. I looked at photos and realized this had been the case for me. I decided to have Botox injected into those overworked muscles to hopefully calm down the pain and slim my face. I booked an appointment with a nurse at a plastic surgeon’s office who claimed to have done the procedure many times. She injected 30 units of Botox into both sides of my face. Within a week, one side of my smile wouldn’t lift. Within two weeks, my muscles began to atrophy, and my cheeks became hollow. The nurse later admitted I was only the 10th person she had done this procedure on. I couldn’t look at myself in photos without analyzing my face. I’d send pictures to friends and family to ask how bad it was. Sam heard me complain about it nonstop and was extremely loving and supportive throughout the whole thing. Having discussed marriage before, I begged him to hold off on any proposal plans he might have, since I wouldn’t be able to smile properly for photos. “It’ll happen when it happens,” he’d say.
J U LY C A M E A N D M Y A U N T was able to move. Now we could get into the nearly 1,100-square-foot, two-story, two-bedroom condo that had been in my family for decades. My mom originally purchased it in 1986. At the time, she was dating 56 O RA NGE CO AST • September 2021
illustration by H A N N A H A G O S TA
