Thank heavens yesterday morning started out so great because after I went to check on mom, I was on a bit of a downer. When I got there, she was out of it but looked cold (body language) so I asked her, and she sort of just squawked at me. With wet hair also, I figured that was a "yes" so I covered her up with a blanket and left to run get her a blow dryer.
I know...seriously...a blow dryer for a few strands of hair... but what the hell. I got one, came right back, and proceeded to blow dry her hair. She was like an old cat getting it's head rubbed. She closed her eyes, leaned her head forward, and sighed as I played hairdresser. Hair flew in every direction but this was not about style as much as comfort. I got her brush and brushed my "creation", as I laughed at myself. Her hair is like corn silk and fine as it comes --what little there is left. Trying to get it to do anything was just a joke. So, I just brushed.
The lady who used to do mom's hair decided it was too hard and uncomfortable for mom to lean her head back for a shampoo and I suspect she'd rather do ladies that are a tad more functioning than mom. I get it. I really do.