Jack The Angel

I met an angel today. He was nothing like any preconceived image I had in my mind of what an angel would look like. He was a big guy - very muscular and "beefy". I would have guessed he was in his sixties, but he mentioned that one of his children was 50 years old, so he must have been older. If I had met him under different circumstances, I would have found him intimidating. He had a shiny, bald-head and looked like he wouldn't back down from a fight.

Almost two weeks to the day after my first round of chemo, my hair started falling out. I was leaving hair everywhere. It was like it was snowing me. I went to wash it in the shower, and there it all was - like a giant hairy ball in the corner of my shower floor. I thought it might sprout legs and start to walk off. I picked it up with rubber gloves and a lot of paper towels as if it were something the cat coughed-up, instead of something I would have put product in and styled if it had stayed put. At first, my hair just looked very thin. Then, when clumps came out, I started looking mangy. The last straw was when I realized that I was distinctly looking like a bad comb-over. So, I went Britney Spears on those last few hundred strands. Now I mostly sport a piratey-look with kerchiefs covering my shockingly white scalp!

I don't know why it bothered me, but those last few hundred hairs I had shaved off, were a little prickly. If I was going to be bald, I wanted my head smooth and clean shaven. I was afraid to do it myself for fear of cutting my head. I have to be particularly careful about cutting myself right now. Not just because of the increased chance of infection and my inability to fight it off, due to the killing off of perfectly healthy blood cells along with the cancer cells - but also because one of the drugs I am on is a blood thinner. I have to take it so that my body won't reject the port that was surgically implanted for my chemo treatments. It also reduces the risk of blood clots around the port. So, even minor nicks, and I bleed a lot. But I digress.

I met an angel today, and his name is Jack. I got a bee in my bonnet about getting my head shaved clean, and I figured the best place to go would be a barbershop. I went to this little shop that I have passed hundreds of times over the years, but had never gone in. I walked in, and of course, I was the only woman in there. I was also probably the only one without a subscription to AARP Magazine. All heads turned and stared at me. It kind of felt like an old western where I walk into the saloon, and for a moment, the piano stops playing, and all conversations halt while the entire room sizes me up - then it all just continues on. Well, after that moment in the barbershop, Jack stands up and says, "Can I help you?" He looked a little menacing, but my unreasonable need to have my head smooth, won out and I stammered "I'm going through chemotherapy, and my hair has fallen out. I was wondering if you could razor shave my head so it will be smooth and clean . . . I'm a little stubbly." There was a moment while Jack took this statement in - and then, I swear that I watched his eyes change. They were hard and wary one moment, and then, they melted and became soft and kind and compassionate. "Of course, I can help you." He escorted me to a chair and wrapped the cape around me. (The one to keep all the hair from going down your collar) He told me that this was the best thing to do and that we were going to make me look beautiful. He took such gentle care and time with me. He put warm shaving cream all over my head and massaged it in. I have to admit, it was a little slice of heaven. He must have gone carefully over my head three times to make sure he got everything and all the while he asked about my family and where I was from and what I did. We chatted about his children and exchanged names at some point. He rubbed my head with some sort of rum and then dusted me with powder and proclaimed, "There, smooth as a baby's bottom!" And it was smooth and soft and had been a profoundly lovely experience. I thanked him profusely and asked him what I owed him. He looked at me with the kindest eyes I've ever seen and said ""Not a thing." I protested . . . no, no, your worked so hard, I must owe you something. "Not a thing - you just go get better." I could barely speak. I stood there a moment and then I just gave him a big hug. While I hugged him, all I could think to say was "You have a customer for life - I will be bringing my boys here." We smiled at each other, and I was on my way. My spirits were incredibly lifted by this lovely act of kindness. I got in my car and cried half the way home.

Jack is my angel - and he was sent to me just at the time when I needed him most. Thank you Jack the Angel.