lice, lice, baby

I’m at my desk working when my phone vibrates for a quick second as it often does throughout the day. It’s a distracting chirp announcing some likely unimportant news. Little did I know, this message was going to drastically change my night.

I ignore my phone for a bit. I wanted to finish what I started because I hate getting interrupted mid-task, something that seems to happen so often now in my life. After I wrap up my work, I pick up my phone and glance at the screen to see what new notifications came through since the last time I checked.

Just as I thought, most were from Facebook. But there was another from my daughter’s soccer team app. I assumed they were just letting us know the details of this weekend’s game, but opened it anyways and felt time slow down as I read the message:

“Hello everyone. We have a case of lice that has happened on our team. Please check your daughter’s hair.”

Lice.
This was not good.
This was not good at all.

This was not good because I immediately recall that my daughter, Scarlett, had been complaining for the past two weeks about an itchy head. I did check her scalp back then when she complained, but I didn’t see anything. However, I realized as I was looking at my phone screen that I likely didn’t check as good as I should have. Scarlett tends to be sensitive and make minor ailments into major issues. When she complained of an itchy head, I had rolled my eyes internally and checked her head out of duty, not diligence.

I realize two things at this moment. First, that I should have been more concerned a couple weeks ago and not dismissed Scarlett’s itchiness. Second thing I realize that the itchiness I felt in my own head for the past week or so was not dry scalp. Not dry scalp, but most likely lice.

Not good.
Not good at all.

My inner voice immediately starts to berate me for not realizing sooner that Scarlett and me both likely had lice. In defense, I’m pushing 40. I’ve never had lice my entire life thus far and neither had any of my kids. This was new. This was new and kind of gross.

I call Scarlett to my bathroom and start combing through her hair. Specks of small things littered her scalp. I was no expert, but after seeing one of the specks have legs, I knew I was in for a night of fun.

Turning down my immediate reaction to shave both our heads and light the house on fire, I did what I do in any new or uncertain situation – I turn to Google. “What to do about lice” was not a search phrase I had ever wanted to use.

My head never felt more alive. Both because I was processing so much new information on a topic I never wanted to learn about, but also because there were likely a billion little lice making a playground on my scalp. I tell Scarlett not to let her head touch anything else and I get into the car to make the 20-minute trip to Walgreens

Walking into Walgreens, I feel like a leper. I feel like I have a sign on my body that screams “THIS WOMAN HAS LICE.” Each scratch I make to my head gives me away even more. I look up and down the aisles of the pharmacy, not knowing where lice treatment would be located. Shampoo? Anti-Itch? I finally locate it in the first-aid section. How lice is comparable to a cut I’m not sure, but all I want to do is make my selection and get the hell home. Being seen looking at lice treatments feels the same as being seen looking at condoms at the store. I don’t know why I feel so embarrassed. I just do.

I am crouched down, hurriedly googling reviews for the two options in front of me, when a woman peeks over. I feel my face flush. “I recommend the mousse,” she says “That’s what always worked for my daughter, and she’s had it numerous times.” I relax slightly. This woman wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed to share the fact that her kid had lice and had had it multiple times. Maybe I didn’t have to feel like a leper. The mom goes on to explain that her daughter was a cheerleader and apparently lice was extremely common in that sport. She made it seem as simple as a cough or a runny nose, not this epic life-changing event that my brain immediately started to turn this into the minute I saw that speck with legs in Scarlett’s scalp.

I thank the woman for her advice, grab two bottles of the mousse, and make the trip home. At every stop light, I read through more articles. Each new piece of information relaxing my nerves a bit more just as the mom had done with her words at Walgreens.

Arriving home, I immediately set to work treating Scarlett’s head with the mousse. Combing out lice is actually somewhat therapeutic once you get passed the initial horror of it all. Like cleaning something that is really dirty; you can appreciate your work because you see the results right in front of you.

The apprehension, disgust, and embarrassment I had felt earlier had slowly started to die off just like the 6 adult lice I removed from Scarlett’s head.

Before that night, I really knew nothing about lice, and I think that’s why my first reaction was basically fear and disgust. I didn’t realize how common it was. I didn’t realize I didn’t need to be embarrassed or set my house on fire to solve the problem. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, and I think a lot of things in life are this way. We feel a certain way without taking time to find out facts and just base our thoughts and feelings on what we think we know is true.

Lice really isn’t THAT bad. Yes, having bugs in your head is nasty and I’ve itched my head at least 20 times since writing this even though I’ve been lice free for weeks. But lice is treatable and really easy to get rid of – at least it was for us. 

And I didn’t even have to burn my house down or give Chris Rock something to joke about by shaving any heads.