I feel a little like Penelope Pitstop. Really. You should see me.
I only need to wear the eyepatch at night. During the day, I have the requisite black sunglasses with the equally dark side lens. The purpose of them is to protect the eye from dust, dirt, particles, etc. and from glare. Glare hasn’t been much of a problem, but, my doctor wants me to wear them to protect the eye, particularly if I try to rub it. I almost did last night. Tom, ever vigilant, caught me just in time.
He also asked the doctor if safety goggles could be used instead.
Sure enough, he came home with a pair of safety goggles from the hardware store. They actually work quite well and give me the same protection as the issue black ones.
Stick with me here. I’m doing this for your own good. I know many of you reading are of my vintage, and those of you decades younger need to file this away for your turn down this particular pike in the road of aging. Stick with me, now. . .
. . . Four days had passed since I last washed my hair. Couple that with the hair thing, which looked like a big, blue hairnet, used to hold my hair back during the cataract procedure, the tape from the eye shield, the goggles, and the requisite tossing and turning during my many naps and well, bad hair day X4! In order to wash my hair, I have to do it with my head tilted back, but, not in the shower. That doesn’t work here very well.
I really needed a shampoo.
I called the closest hair salon I could find, not wanting to drive to my regular one my first time driving by myself. They could squeeze me in at 11:30, understood I just needed a shampoo and dry and that I would have a patch on my eye.
I carefully drove over, found a parking space near the door, and entered. I swear, everyone stopped to look at me. A pregnant pause before a little voice whose person I couldn’t see said “Oh. You must be Penny. Be with you in a few minutes.” Bright, red walls, hip music, everyone chatting in the loud voices of hair salons midday on a Saturday.
The owner, who looked about my age, was dancing around the shop. A woman, who looked rather like John Travolta from Hairspray, was coloring hair. Nails were being polished in blues and greens, and out popped a wee little thing with a plaid shirt and plaid pants (not matching, of course) and multi-colored hair, half up and half down and a few pieces in between. Lana was mine. She liked my name and asked me what I wanted done. She could do anything, she told me, and would wash my hair (I looked a bit like a bag lady) and be very careful. We chatted a bit. I learned her mother was a psychiatrist and her father a structural engineer and they MADE her go to a renowned school of fashion design, which she did, and then promptly became a color stylist and worked on stars and models, but, really, she didn’t mind washing my hair and she would love to curl it, too, for free! Phew!
It was the best hair wash I have ever had. Lana was careful and had another girl help keep water off of my face and away from the eye patch. She massaged my scalp, ever-so-gently, and wanted to know about the surgery as she blew my hair dry. I was touched that every time the dryer came near my face she turned the speed and heat down and protected my eye and I was amused that the dancing owner boogied over and talked to me and marveled that I had such thick hair, and then boogied back to his customer.
Back in my car, I switched the patch for the goggles, and off I went, Penelope Pitstop – that’s me!
I tipped Lana well. She deserved it.
Oh, you made me laugh and lightened my day! That scene at the hairdresser’s is so vividly painted. Who would have thought that a cataract op would bring up a hair crisis. Hope that hair and eyes will thrive now.
LikeLike
I am so glad to hear of it, Juliet. Thank you. Sometimes, we just have roll with what we are dealing with and make it fun. The eyes are thriving. This morning, the hair, well, the hair needs a little taming from its wild adventure yesterday. ha!
LikeLike
Dear Ms. Pitstop,
I am so glad you had a good hair experience. Some of those little girls with purple hair, tattoos, and nose rings are the nicest people once you get past all of that. What fun you had on your adventure “out in the world” again. Very funny post. Just to prove that I am with it like the kids I will add LOL.
Love from your old gray Mouse.
LikeLike
Dear Ms. Gray Mouse.
It was. I really felt good when I was done. The are, aren’t they? She showed honest concern in helping me and was a really nice person. I felt a rebirth with my new ocular lens and snappy new “do”, not to mention the state of the art goggles. It just goes to show, as Roseanne Rosanna Danna used to day, “it’s always something”. Now, we can both be “with it”.
Your BFF, Penelope Pitstop
LikeLike
Lovely 🙂 You wrote about the sounds of the hairdressers: when my eye wasn’t working, the sound became prevalent and very important. Your description so reminded me of that experience.
So glad you feel right again. Shampoos are blessed things.
LikeLike
Oh, Kate, I think you were in far more discomfort than me. Ouch. I remember your injury. Glad you are past that.
Thank you. I have to save my pennies and dimes for the other eye and shampoo. ha!
We had sunshine today! Yea!
LikeLike
I really enjoyed this story and you told it so well! I think this will make for a wonderful comic addition to your memoirs. Lana sounds like such a sweet girl and I’m glad (and impressed) with how much care she took in protecting your eye. You’ll have to go back again in a few weeks and maybe once more, just for fun (I won’t tell your regular salon, don’t worry!)
LikeLike
I think most of my memoirs will be comical. It is impressive how well she took care of me. Maybe I’ll go back after my second surgery for another wash, dry, and entertainment. (thank you for keeping the secret – ha)
LikeLike
It is really great to run across people who take pride in their work and go well beyond the minimum requirements of the job. You find them in all different fields and they really stand out.
LikeLike
How true. She really took good care of me and was quite professional.
LikeLike