By AMY SHANKLAND
Sandwiched
I just discovered a recent crisis at my mom’s assisted living facility. No, it’s not a lack of health care professionals or a spread of the virus (thank goodness).
As I sorted through Mom’s mail and flyers the other day, I stumbled across a piece of paper on the facility’s letterhead stating that their on-site beautician had left. I quickly raised my head and looked at Mom.
“Oh my gosh … your hairdresser is gone?” I asked. Mom nodded.
“Yep,” she replied.
I was surprised at her calm demeanor. Mom is one of the thousands (millions?) of older women who goes to the salon once a week for her “wash and set.” For her and for them, this is sacred. Ask most any hair stylist – they’ll tell you they have older ladies with a standard appointment every Friday. Or, at least, most of the time it’s on a Friday.
Before COVID-19, Mom’s wonderful helper Michelle drove her to a nearby salon once a week. I was grateful for this because with my work schedule I couldn’t commit to doing this every Friday. Obviously the pandemic brought this practice to a halt.
Due to Mom’s severe arthritis now, she has to move any significant distances by wheelchair. This means our only way of traveling is through the Hamilton County Express van or Riverview Health Rides. While both of these are wonderful, we can’t use these services for weekly hair appointments.
So Mom was happy to switch to her on-site stylist. Not only did she get her hair done each week, Brenda painted her nails every other week – also a sacred ritual that I’ve written about in a previous column.
In fact, before I saw the flyer, I was surprised to see Mom’s nail polish sitting on her walker one evening. As I shared before, Mom cannot paint her nails herself – she’s ruined many items in the past – so we’ve kept her nail polish at the salon. Mom doesn’t quite understand this, however, and we’ve “butted heads” on this topic.
I was trying to figure out how to get the nail polish out of her room when she asked me to drape a cardigan over her walker before I left. I quickly did as she instructed, nonchalantly swiping the nail polish in the process and quietly putting it in my pocket. I left the nail polish with the receptionist with instructions to please give it to the salon the next day.
The flyer said that the facility was looking for a new beautician. I know in this day and age it could take some time. Of course, the CNAs will help her wash her hair when they assist Mom in the shower. And yes, I could paint her nails … but I am pretty dreadful at this task. I don’t even paint my own. Heck, I may even ruin her things.
Let’s hope this crisis is resolved fairly soon… I’ll be praying for a Christmas miracle!