Mom & Me Five Archive

...in regard to Mom's upcoming doctor's appointment on Thursday. Today I'm taking her to my barber to have her hair cut. She's finally decided that she's willing to try having it cut in order to enhance scalp health. The trump card? She remembered, surprisingly, something one of her former hair salon stylists said some years ago: "It's just hair. I don't know why people get so excited about it. If you don't like it, it always grows back." I suspect, in fact, that despite my mother having only about half the amount of hair I do (and, believe me, I've got much less than what would normally be considered a full head of hair), her hair grows faster than mine.
    At any rate, what I've talked her into is this: Having the back cut in a short-but-not-too-short shag, in order to overlap enough to cover her scalp but be short enough so that it'll show shape but not have to be treated with styling gel to keep it looking good. It seems that there is almost no styling gel on the market, anymore, that doesn't irritate my mother's scalp. That will take care of half of her head. The top part and the front sides will be somewhat longer and nicely shaped so that I can curl her hair, tease it and style it, maybe even be able to use some of her favorite glittery and pearly clips in it, but not have to enforce it with irritating gels in order to get it to look good. While I was prowling my barber's collection of styling products this morning, though, while awaiting my own hair trimming, I noticed a styling product that contains no alcohol, plastic resins or PVP film formers. I'm going to give this a try. As well, my barber gave me a sample of a conditioner that can be left in the hair after washing to protect the scalp. If this stuff works, I'll publish the names of the products.
    My barber also cautioned me against using the typical products for the control of scalp irritation on Mom. I've been using Dermarest and Scalpicin, after having unsuccessfully trying a Tea Tree preparation. She was adamant that the above two products in particular, and products such as Head & Shoulders and Tegrin don't work on scalps such as my mother's. She also cautioned me against washing her hair as often as I do currently. "No more than two times a week," she said. "You can rinse it and rub some of the build-up out, but don't wash it a lot."
    One of the quirky benefits of visiting this particular barber is that she has a huge sense of humor. She provides, directly in front of her patrons when they're in the chair, continually changing poster boards pasted full of sayings ranging from the gently funny to the wildly ironic...sort of like a collection of car stickers, only better. Some time ago she made T-shirts with her favorites and sells them at her shops. Today, while awaiting my turn in the chair, I took to reading one of the shirts she had hung on the wall for display. I was reminded that, during my mother's daily bathing, she reads whatever is on the T-Shirt I happen to be wearing and this usually elicits a wide variety of gentle, funny, conversation, a great introduction into her day. I realized that one of these shirts would be the perfect bath uniform for me. The T-shirts are so loaded with sayings, front and back, that by the time she's read all of them, she will have forgotten her first readings and we'll be back where we started. So, I bought one. I'll be introducing my new bathing uniform when I awaken her in a few minutes. Should be fun.
    When I entered the shop, this morning, unbeknownst to me, my barber was working on a very bitter, cautious woman. The shop is small and close, one chair, one barber, which encourages cross conversation. Never having met the patron in the chair, I announced when I walked in, "Let me tell you what I love Prescott. This morning I stopped by the Mail Box (a commercial mail facility) to post a small package. The proprietor was walking across the street from the bank with a load of cash for his cash register in hand. I can't think of anyplace else, right off, where someone would consider doing this."
    My announcement was only barely acknowledged. It appeared that I had interrupted the patron being served in mid-thought; but she continued, without a hitch what turned out to be a tirade against the injustices taking place in her trailer court. Here and there, when my barber was able to get a word in edge-wise, she'd sympathetically offer, "You've got to keep after them [name of patron]; you can't give up."
    After the patron left and I was settling myself into the chair, my barber winced in apology for the previous conversation. First, she told me that she was surprised that the patron didn't light into me immediately after my anecdote.
    "That's okay," I said. "She makes the rest of us look good."
    My barber chuckled then told me, "She's very bitter. She's a former nun and got angry with with God and left. Now, she doesn't have a good word to say about anyone or anything." It seems that the woman is also perpetually frightened and defensive. The barber told me that this woman, who is probably somewhere in her 70's but could be in her early 80's, who knows, it's hard to tell, when one gets to the upper registers, carries a complete arsenal of weapons in her pockets and purse and sports a full bullet sash across her chest.
    I was astonished. "You're kidding! Here, in Prescott!" It's a good thing, I thought, that she's here instead of in a larger community. If she were in Phoenix she'd probably be wearing a full suit of armor everywhere.
    My barber and I contrasted this patron's attitude with my mother's, who remains highly optimistic about both life and people. Amazing what different paths people travel through life.
    I thought about what might happen if and when this woman ever reaches a point where she needs others to help care for her. I can't even imagine what it might be like to provide care and support for an Ancient Someone who felt as though she had to keep herself perpetually armed against every moment of her life. My guess is that her natural suspicion would be a huge factor in guaranteeing that she never received predictable, proper care. Now, I'm curious. What does happen to people who are this angry, bitter, suspicious and protective as they enter their Ancient Years?
    Time to awaken the Mom.
    Later.