Lately, I have had some new lingering health issues and as a result will be going to my usual barrage of doctors this week and next to slap myself back into shape. I know from experience that my docs will want to look at my feet (diabetes/arthritis stuff) so I thought I would get a pedicure to make my hoofs more presentable.
My dear sister had discovered this nail salon which serves refreshments (yes, wine and my crack of choice: Diet Coke). while you are receiving these wonderful pedicures. The music is tinkly and the lights are dim. It's truly a delicious way to pamper yourself. As I was thoroughly enjoying my pedi, I noticed a woman a bit younger than me, hobbling into a pedicure chair across from me. I noticed her freshly shorn hair when she took off her ball cap with several completely bald spots. It didn't take a genius to see that she had some major health issues.
I smiled at her when she looked my way and I saw her looking through the list of services not sure what to get. She just knew that when her young nieces visited her in the hospital, that she didn't much care for bright yellow toenail polish. She just didn't have the heart to ask for a nice pink or red polish instead. This poor woman looked like the weight of the world was on her. I can't say I had experienced everything she had, but I knew well how troubles can wear you down.
I normally don't strike up a conversation with folks I don't know. But I offered a suggestion that she try the sea salt pedicure. Heck, it's only 5 bucks more than a basic and it feels wonderful. She wondered aloud if her skin could take it, as she's going through chemo and it's having a weird reaction to her body. I suggested that she ask her docs about it because it feels wonderful.
She looked at me and slowly smiled. She looked at her nail tech and said, "Sea salt pedicure, please." She sat back and waited curiously to feel the salt on her skin. She was fretting just a bit and I mentioned that my sister had gone through cancer and she went through hell, but she made it through. Her eyes lit up a bit and she began to feel hopeful. "Yeah, cancer is a journey..." I nodded and winked at her. "Honey, you're going to be okay. One day you'll be able to see the end of the tunnel and actually look over your shoulder to see it pass."
She smiled and leaned back in her chair to enjoy the sensations of sea salt. Going through health and personal problems seem to last forever when you are walking through it. In the mean time, sometimes a little Sea Salt makes a huge difference until we reach the other side of the mountain.
More Musings Later-