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A Little Goes a Long Way

Among the many downsides to breaking a bone is the inability to properly shower.

Thankfully, we already had a shower chair from when Chicky hurt her knee when she was in high school.  We’d kept it all these years, so the Mr. pulled it out of the closet when I was feeling well enough to take care of business.

Bath and Body Works was my friend, y’all!

The problem, though, was my hair.

I cannot stand up for long.  I’m already using my left leg for everything.  I’m going to have body builder muscles in that leg by the time I’m able to use my right leg again.

It has its limits, though, as does my balance.

I also cannot lean forward over a sink, so washing my hair in the kitchen is out.

I texted Dana, my hairdresser, and tried to explain the predicament.

She called me.

Sometimes, a phone call is easier than a hundred texts.

Now, let me tell you about Dana.

She has to be one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.

She’s been cutting the Mr.’s hair for years and years and years.

He’s followed her from one salon to another.

He got Rooster to start going to her a few years ago, and I finally gave her a try as well.

She’s wonderful.

She’s a no-nonsense gal with a heart of gold.

She assured me that she would be able to prop up my leg while she got me fixed up.

The Mr. drove me to her place today after he’d put in a few hours at work.

She warmly greeted us when we walked in and quickly grabbed a chair, which she gently placed under my leg.

As she washed in that way that hair dressers do, we caught up with one another.  I shared the sordid details of my accident with her.

To look at her, you’d think she’s one bad-a$$ lady.

Ok.  She really is.


Her heart is like butter, I’m telling you.

I think she gave my head an extra long massage as we talked.

I could have fallen asleep.

I’ve been unable to scratch my itchy leg in its cast.  Her scalp massage was more than making up for that.

She then combed out my hair before I got up to leave.

She walked us out, and we tried to pay her.

She almost looked offended.

She would not take our money.

At all.

She wouldn’t even let us tip her.


We kind of figured going into it that she’d refuse, but we still wanted to try.

We’re planning on doing something nice for her the next time we go in.

The Mr. and I talked about this on our way home, and I texted her later to thank her.

I told her how much she meant to us…that she’s like family.

She doesn’t just give lip service about kind deeds.

She personifies them.

She’s love in action.

Some might suggest that I’m making too much out of nothing, but I don’t think I am.

I’m deeply appreciative of the little things.

I had told the Mr. how someone had told me to allow others to help me during this challenging time.  Accepting help allows people to be blessed by their actions.  Denying them robs them of the privilege.

It’s an interesting perspective but one that I understand.  I always feel good when someone lets me help them.  I know that it’s hard to admit that you need help.  We live in a culture that stresses self-reliance.

Thus it is that little things do not go unnoticed.  The ripple effects reach out farther than one might like to think.

Dana’s seemingly small action put a smile on my face and lifted my spirits on a day that had started with a bit of a pity party and a few tears of frustration.

Ignore my lack of makeup and tired eyes.  Stress will do that to a person.

Ever since my pain medicine got changed, I’ve spent most of my time with my leg propped up, napping each day away and seeing very little natural daylight.  My heart is rejoicing, though, because my hair isn’t greasy or stinky.

One Response

  1. You make a good point about letting someone care for you because they want to do it. I need to listen to that advice. I’m good (I think) at giving help to others but I’m really bad at accepting help. I’m sure getting out and having clean hair really helped you.

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