|Leaving my barber yesterday with my $12 haircut - refreshed!|
Yesterday I got a haircut. This is my first haircut since my freak accident February 18th.
When I got home I took my first shower since my surgery March 10th. Ask me if I felt like a new Ron. Yes!
I was hesitant to make the trip to downtown Lewes and my barber to get a haircut. Getting in and out of the car and navigating my walker into the barber shop. And then once in the barber shop how would I keep my braced left leg straight? But I just couldn't imagine not getting a haircut for another two months, the length of time it will take for my leg to heal. I'm not one of these guys who ever went for the long haired look. The longest I ever had my hair was back in 1982 and then it still wasn't half over my ears as was the fashion back then. I've always favored short hair. I just don't like messing with my hair. Especially now since I have a receding hairline that leaves only a "peninsula" of hair on my forehead. Unlike most of my friends who have NO hair on their head, my father's genes did leave me with SOME hair, which I do not color by the way. I do color my beard but haven't since my accident. Hence the white beard which automatically adds ten years to my age.
|The longest I ever let m hair grow - 1982 - note that my ears are totally visible|
|Me in 1968 trying to control my thicket of hair|
Now I know what some of you are thinking, "That's why Ron is gay, his Mom raised him as a girl." Well, I don't know. I did like to cut out paper dolls and play with dolls. I wasn't too big on cap guns and playing soldier (until later though when G.I. Joe came out and he was cute).
|Me, before my first haircut and when I "lost my curls)|
|My previous barber (Joe Ursini) in Downingtown - 2001|
|Me - oil portrait - 1979|
|My father (and me) about two weeks before he died in August 2000 - not a gray hair on his head|
So these days folks I'm quite content to shave down to the bare essentials on what hair I have left. Gone are the days when I had a pompadour to contend with.
|Me at 16 years of age (1958) - way too much hair to contend with|
|Me and a former classmate at my 40th Class reunion 1999|
|Me and my co-worker at First Financial Bank Downingtown, PA 2001|
Well, it wasn't easy getting to my barber's yesterday. Bill had to load me in the car with my walker then unload me. Then I had to traverse myself into the barber shop on a very uneven sidewalk. Then once in the barber shop I had to figure out how to sit down, keeping my left leg straight. Then when it was my turn I had to figure out how to sit in the barber chair, still keeping my left leg straight. First the barber chair was too too . . . ouch! Then it was too high and all the blood was going down to my swollen left foot. Finally we got the "Goldielocks" (just right) position on the barber chair and she commenced to shave my head. And this folks is the result. Looks good doesn't it? Well, I think it does anyway.
So how is my leg recovery going? I still need my walker (and will for another two months). I asked my health care worker which was worse, a broken leg or my ruptured quadriceps. She said "Oh yours is much worse, it takes a lot longer for tissue to heal than does bone." Well, aren't I lucky? I would have thought it would take longer for bone to heal but what do I know?
My biggest problem now, other than being almost totally dependent on Bill (which is starting to get to him now, you have two months to go Bill), is my left foot swelling up. The only relief I get is when I sleep at night. I'm unconscious and when I wake up in the morning my foot isn't a swollen. But I can't stay in bed all day.
Soon this nightmare will be over. Two months soon. What keeps me going is the knowledge that my injury could have been much worse or even tragic. I could have been knocked unconscious and died in that cold alley (five windy degrees) that night. Or I could have broken my hip for fractured my skull.
I believe everything happens for a reason. I think the reason this happened for me is to make me pause and take a new look at life and appreciate what I have. My health, home and life.
I don't know how many years I have left nor do I know if I have yet another health crises waiting for me in the future but what I do know is that when I am well again, and moving about normally on my two legs I'm going to enjoy life and not waste time complaining or worrying about things I cannot change.
Spring is here folks. The daffodils are blooming and my leg is healing. Life is looking good.