Centipedes Don’t Count

No one talks about lice. It is on the DO NOT MENTION list of what not to talk about in polite company. I listened to a pod cast recently about the seven things you may not bring up at a dinner party. One was “what I dreamed about last night”  and I can’t remember the others but I’m sure lice was on the list. No one cares.

Seriously, when I got back from visiting my grandchildren and got the call two days later from my daughter that the whole family had lice, I was traumatized. None of my friends wanted to talk about it and my hair dresser took two days to answer my text! So, I’m going to write about it to vent and process.

I hung up from the phone call with my daughter and thought, “No big deal, so the kids had lice. Kids get lice at school and so what if the whole family found out today that they all had lice.”  I felt loving compassion for my daughter and her husband and gratitude that there are delousing parlors in their area. They had all been seen by a professional, received the most up-to-date treatment and the situation was under control.

Then I started to feel an intense crawling sensation on my scalp and I thought, “Oh my god, LICE!” I rushed to the drug store and had a hushed conference with the pharmacist  explaining that I’ve heard that lice are immune to all the over-the-counter treatments that used to control them when my children were young. “Could you,” I pleaded in a whispered and desperate tone, “Could you please recommend the strongest over-the-counter preparation so I can treat myself for lice because I just found out my grandchildren have it and I spent 5 days at their  house.”  I grinned, raised my eyebrows and tilted my head.

He acted as if I were asking for hemorrhoid preparation and with a flat affect and no response to the details of my plight he pointed out the CVS drug store brand of lice treatment. I knew it wouldn’t work but I bought two boxes which promised two nit picking combs each and scuttled through the line at the front of the store.

Once home I ripped into action. I tore the sheets off the bed, took all the pillows and put them in plastic bags, washed all the clothes I had worn on my trip and told my husband he had to have the treatment also because he sleeps with me. Dutifully, he examined my head and applied the treatment. I did the same to him and neither of us found any sign of lice or nits. 

I told myself that was probably enough and went to bed. Several times during the night I woke up feeling my entire scalp crawling with vermin. In the morning I gave my husband the nit comb, a magnifying glass and I sat under a bright light. He searched my head for 20 minutes, “Nope, nope, nope, nope,” he dutifully reported as he searched each quadrant of my scalp. He went to work.

There was a storm with winds and torrential rain outside. I felt crawling on my scalp as if the bugs had multiplied since the day before. “Of course they have multiplied since yesterday,” I reasoned. “The invisible eggs that my husband didn’t see have hatched!” I searched the internet for delousing parlors in my area and found Bugalugz Parlor a forty-five minute drive away. 

At 2:00 I called the Bugalugz number and a woman answered the phone. “Do you have anything at all available today?” I queried  as my voice only cracked a little. “Yes, she replied, I have a 2:45.” The wind and rain didn’t even bother me as I drove with great resolve and determination to end my suffering.

Bugalugz Parlor was decorated in cheerful primary colors with cartoon characters painted on the walls of the reception area. The treatment room was also cheery and I used the time I was being examined to ask the technician about her job. She reported that after three years there she only seldom gets the feeling that she has lice crawling on her head but in the beginning she had the sensation a lot. 

“The two year olds are the hardest,” she confided. “Their doting mother’s bring them in and I tell the toddler I’m going to tickle their hair with my comb while I examine them. They usually cooperate until I find lice and actually start applying the treatment. Then they start to really scream.” Her voice was serious and she seemed like she needed to talk about it so I encouraged her to go on.  “Sometimes I worry that Child Protective Services are going to come in here and arrest me because the kids scream so loud. But the mothers say, just do it and let him scream.”

I can relate! That’s exactly how I felt, JUST DO IT. She did examine me and found nothing so I paid my $35 and drove home in the pouring rain. I thought it was the best $35 I had spent in a long time until I got home and started feeling lice crawl on my scalp.

As soon as my husband got home from work I got the magnifying glass, the nit comb and the bright light and begged him to examine my head. Patiently and lovingly he sat down and began to search. “Nope, nope, nope,” he systematically reported. Then he said, “Oh,” and tilted my head closer to the light, “Centipedes don’t count, right?”

Copyright © 2014 Gayle Madison