Just back home from treating myself to a pedicure at WalMart's 'Nails Boutique.' I have always managed to keep both fingernails and toenails in excellent condition all by myself. Whether working in the garden, going on the beach barefoot or out to dinner in fancy sandals, most important as far as I'm concerned is good hands and feet grooming. As mentioned before in other writings, I have always been a 'barefoot' girl and have every reason to believe that's why my feet have remained so healthy even in my 80th year.
Now I could count the few times I've paid to have manicures/pedicures throughout my entire life on my ten fingers. It's just always been part of 'body upkeep' along with cutting/styling my own hair and at one time even applying those 'faux lashes' over my blue eyes, lashes that half the time came loose just when you needed to look your best. So, naturally, I gave into just being happy with mascara. Never one for much makeup, I had been brought up with the idea that a good soap scrub with a washcloth followed with a moisture lotion was enough. A little sunshine and a good diet provided all the color needed.
Often I have chosen to polish my toe nails in other than primary colors: lavender, powder-blue, mint-green, for example. Today I chose a deep red. When I came out to the parking lot to get in my Mazda and drive back home, I noticed that my toenails exactly matched my car's paint job. Go figure.
Probably the best part of having a professional pedicure is the scrubbing away of rough skin and then massaging, all the way up to your knees with a cool creamy lotion. Of course, the whole session begins with a water-massage foot soak that is over much too soon. As I relaxed during the one hour process, with the option of turning on the 'massage-chair' in which client's are seated, I chose to just sit quietly. Great way to bring back memories related to the present. So, here goes.
Over the years I've loved doing volunteer work at hospitals and 'rest-homes' in order to give back for my life's wondrous times. So often I found that the 'Pink Ladies' hospital volunteer women were inclined to choose the option of passing out newspapers and magazines, maybe writing a letter or even reading to someone, along with gentle well meaning conversation and smiles, of course. Nothing wrong with all that. It's just that I noticed no one, and nurses certainly didn't have the time either, wanted to do the actual work of giving a patient a manicure/pedicure while they languished in bed.
Probably this was a most prevalent need noticed when I volunteered for a year at Hondo Hospital in California, where the last victims of Polio cases were either waiting to die as they laid in their 'iron lung' machines or the more positive thinking ones who had graduated to 'rocking-beds' or the art of 'frog-breathing.'
There were some ladies who were in the final stages of MS or other debilitating/often fatal diseases, who also were thankful for me to take the time to carefully remove facial hair that was a side-effect of strong medications. Not a pleasant task, but a very rewarding one to add to my labors of manicure/pedicure. I remember when the husband of one woman arrived for visiting hour and when he saw his wife looking so lovely and smiling he began crying and smiling at the same time.
I became interested in Hondo when a dear friend of mine, whom I met at the women's prayer meeting at the Pilgrim Congregational Church, became a Polio victim. This was the time of the last Polio epidemic in the '50s. Polio ravaged the young every year following the most tragic onset of the crippling disease following the 1916 epidemic which left my mother an invalid. This final tragic episode of Polio left Mary, a lovely young wife and mother of three, completely paralyzed from her neck down.
I immediately signed up for their minimum one year of volunteer service just to be with Mary one full day every week. Since I had grown up with a Polio victim's special needs, I felt I was equipped to handle the dire situation of the moment. My wonderful neighbor, AnnaMae, new in the neighborhood, was there for me looking after my two kids when they came home from school. So together we served as 'volunteers' each in our own way.
Each visit Mary was so despondent, even though she had a wonderful husband and family that stood by her. I had been informed each time of my arrival of her negative feelings and asked to push her to try the steps to get out of the iron lung. "Mary, I hear you won't even try the rocking bed. Come on, You can do this." I was thankful to visit with other patients throughout the day who were more positive thinking, but would always check with her in between to try to cheer her up. It didn't always work.
'Lo and behold, the following week I was greeted with a smiling Mary from her rocking-bed. Weeks later, with the same routine of egging her on to try new things, she would graduate to moments of sitting up in a wheelchair and 'frog-breathing' which was pretty scary, I'm sure. You've probably seen this demonstrated by the late Christopher Reed who showed great positive thinking until the last.
By the end of the year, Mary was being prepared to go home. She was learning 'short-wave radio' along with painting and drawing using her mouth. She did finally return home to her husband and children, and busied herself with her new learned skills. The last I heard she had a forth child and was becoming well known over her radio broadcasts.
Wouldn't you know, just a few short years ago, my only sister found herself hospitalized and also temporarily paralyzed so she couldn't move her limbs unless manually moved by an assistant. What did I do when I saw her after flying to her side in San Jose's hospital? That's right, I gave her a pedicure, painted her toenails a lovely shade of blue. After all, she could see her toes just fine.
I'm thankful to say, that with fine doctors, a loving husband, children, grandkids and extended family, my sister has totally recovered. We laugh about my rushing to her side to give her a pedicure. Hey, maybe it was somewhat of a cure after all?
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