I spent three months wondering if the swelling was ever going to stop

Getting lost in the maze of Gangnam clinics

I remember walking down the streets near Apgujeong Station on a Tuesday afternoon. There were so many glass buildings with names I’d never heard of, some looking like high-end hotels and others tucked away in older office buildings that felt slightly claustrophobic. Everyone talks about how easy it is to find a place, but when you’re actually there holding a list of five different clinics you pulled from an online forum, it just feels like sensory overload. I had appointments spread out over two days. One clinic in Seochogu felt very clinical, almost sterile like a laboratory, while another closer to the main intersection had a lobby that looked more like a luxury cafe, complete with expensive-looking coffee machines and velvet chairs.

The reality of the consultation desk

I sat across from a coordinator at a clinic near Gangnam Station. She was incredibly sharp, dressed in a crisp suit, and had a way of pointing out things on my face I hadn’t even realized were ‘issues.’ I kept thinking about a thread I read online about how these coordinators often set the tone for the entire experience, sometimes even more than the doctors themselves. Her talk about ‘skin structure support’ and the latest lifting techniques was technically impressive, but honestly, it just made me feel tired. I think she mentioned an initial price range around 5 to 7 million won for the procedure I was eyeing. I didn’t book anything that day. I just walked out and ate a bowl of hot udon nearby because I felt like I needed something grounding after all those mirrors.

The long waiting game after the surgery

When I finally went through with a different procedure months later, the actual surgery felt like a blur, but the recovery was the part that lingered. People talk about the ‘results’ as if they happen the moment you take off the bandages, but they don’t tell you about the weeks of persistent, dull swelling. I spent a lot of time just sitting on my sofa, staring at my reflection and wondering if I had done something that couldn’t be undone. There were days when I was convinced one side looked lower than the other. I kept checking my phone to see if anyone else had complained about this exact kind of asymmetry at the three-week mark. It was annoying to have to go back for checkups during work hours, and the commute to the clinic felt like a massive chore, especially when the weather was humid.

Why I stopped checking the forums

I eventually stopped looking at those ‘before and after’ posts on social media. It’s hard not to compare yourself, especially when you see those influencers who seem to recover in a week with perfect skin. I know a lot of those are sponsored posts or have some level of production involved, but when you’re looking at your own puffy face in the elevator mirror, logic doesn’t always help. I remember one specific follow-up visit where I waited for almost forty minutes in the lobby. I saw a few other people there who looked just as nervous as I felt, and for a moment, we all just looked at our phones, avoiding eye contact. It’s a strange, quiet camaraderie that nobody really talks about.

Still unsure about the final result

Even now, a good while later, I’m not entirely sure if the trade-off was worth the stress. It’s not that I regret it, but the memory of those uncertain mornings isn’t something I can just erase. I think I expected a more definitive ‘this is how it’s supposed to be’ feeling. Instead, I just sort of got used to the new normal. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just done nothing, or if I would have felt the same way even if I had chosen a more expensive, ‘famous’ clinic. There isn’t really a clear takeaway here. It’s just that the whole process took up so much space in my head for such a long time, and now that it’s over, the silence is a bit surprising.