Every morning I take calcium, vitamins, a baby aspirin and medication to manage my cholesterol. (Most cholesterol meds should not be taken with citrus juice.) The potassium I take to ward off the side effects of the cholesterol pills should be taken with food. The over the counter naproxin that eases my arthritis symptoms cannot be taken too soon after the aspirin. The non-drowsy Loratadine I swallow occasionally to clear my sinuses needs to be taken early in the day, lest I remain ‘non-drowsy’ half the night. Over time, I have established a routine for working all these pills into my daily life.

This week, to complicate matters, I needed to take a round of antibiotic (twice a day). When I read the slip of paper that came with the perscription, I found that the pill could not be taken with milk, nor “within six hours before or two hours after taking calcium,” and it would be better to avoid diary products all together. Also, I must not take an antacid within one hour before or after the antibiotic.  Oh yes, drink plenty of water.

I figured if I took my usual round at 7:00 a.m., I could take the antibiotic at 1:00 p.m. and again at 8:00 p.m., foregoing my usual bowl of cereal at bedtime.  Loradatine at 9:00 if needed and potassium with lunch. And be careful what I eat for lunch because I can’t take an antacid.

And did you notice that none of these pill are life-saving?  Because I’m in great health. I have to be. I can’t work any more pills into my schedule.

My hairdresser changed the part in my hair. Well, it’s not really a part, not as people of my generation understand parting the hair. My hair is styled with a vague insinuation to the right (now to the left).  This is not a part. My mother understood how to part hair. She would clasp my face with her right hand, tighten her thumb and fingers and say, “Don’t move.” As if! Then she would guide a comb through my hair and a layer of scalp, pull it to the side and fasten it with a bobbie pin or barrette. There it would stay for 30-40 minutes before it began to crawl out of the fastener.

But I digress. When I say my hair style is now slightly different, that doesn’t indicate that I am the devil-may-care type who bravely makes a major change in my appearance. No, it means that I have no control over what my stylist does to my hair. Nor does any other female I know.

If you don’t believe me, just comment on any woman’s hair and you’ll hear, “I didn’t really want it this short…” “This wasn’t what I planned, but…” “I looked in the mirror and this is what had happened…”

Actually, knowing that it is out of their control makes me feel differently about some celebrities I see with questionable hairdos. (The question being, “What are you thinking?”)

Like Kate-with-the-eight.  One side of her hair hangs to her jawbone, the other is cut above her ear. She looks for all the world like she fell asleep and one of the kids found some scissors.*

Or Holly Hunter on “Saving Grace”, a show that has credibility problems on several levels. When have you seen a police woman with a mass of nearly-waist-length hair?  An open invitation for a perp to grab and pull.

Oh, I could go on, but as I said, it’s not their fault. It’s cruelly ironic that as women, our hair is the one feature that has the power to define our day.  Yet we must, from time to time, put our trust completely in the hands of another person. And if we don’t come out looking good. Well … I don’t even want to think about it.

*Okay, to be fair, Kate may or may not have this hairstyle right now. I do not watch that show. But I do channel-surf and every time I pass The Learning Channel, she is there.  I’ve seen that hairdo. If she doesn’t have it right now it just shows that she thought better of it.  Or her hair dresser did.