Lice and Addiction--The Equalizers

I remember that call from my sister like it was yesterday instead of almost 9 years ago.  My niece, my precious beautiful 8 year old niece, came home crying because one of her "besties" told her, "My mom says I can't sit by you on the bus because you had lice." (I would like to make sure you see the emphasis on "had") Sadly the mom passing on this information to her child was also one of my sister's "friends."  So as good sisters do when one has been slighted, I expressed my sympathy, my horror, my outrage and verbalized that I wished not only for that child to get lice but for there to descend upon that house every kind of plague imaginable.  I am a very good sister! And then my exceptionally wise, older (had to throw that adjective in) sister said, "You know here's the thing.  Lice equalizes the "social" and economic playing field. Anyone can get it."

I've thought about that a great deal over the years.  I'm not sure I know a single family who hasn't had to deal with lice. Still when I hear about an outbreak I get squeamish (and itchy--even as I write this I'm scratching) and I give a silent prayer of thanks that it's not us--this time.  See those little boogers don't care if you live on a country club golf course, in a million dollar home, or in public housing. They don't care how many diplomas you have on your wall, where they are from, or whether your walls are covered with newspaper to keep the cold out. They don't care if you wash your hair once a day or once a week.  They don't care what your last name is or who you know. If you're exposed, you stand the chance of getting them. And you can be exposed easily--sharing a hat, a headband, or a brush, and it only takes one time.

You can get them effortlessly, but (and I speak from experience) the effort of getting rid of them is intense. It is hard, and it can be painful.  I remember the hours I spent combing out long beautiful hair as my girls gritted their teeth, tears rolling down their faces, trying not to scream when it seemed I pulled too hard.  I remember when I was that girl with my mother combing my hair out yanking and tugging trying to get rid of every last interloper--every last piece of evidence that we'd been infected. I remember the hours I spent washing pillows, sheets, stuffed animals--the hours spent dealing with "the problem". I remember thinking, "I've got it all done." only to have a resurgence a few days later as unfound eggs hatched.  I remember the hours spent focusing on the task at hand, and the other things in life that were neglected or ignored during the "crisis"--even other family members.

I remember the lectures I gave the children as they left for school, ballet, sports practices and most importantly camp, about sharing pillows, brushes, headbands and hats.  Yet, even when they'd seen the difficulty of getting rid of them, even when they'd heard the sobs of their siblings who were going through the decontamination process, even when they'd been the one they still at times did not heed my advice.

The other thing I remember about lice outbreaks is the notes that came home from the schools--both public and private--when a student was found to be infected. I remember hearing people, I remember being one of the people, who speculated on "the culprit", who smugly passed judgement on the family, and who silently or not, gave thanks it wasn't our family.  And I remember the shame that came when it was.

Sadly I remember telling my children, "Don't tell anyone why _________ isn't at school today." I convinced myself it was because I didn't want my children to be scorned, to be ridiculed, to be judged, to be ostracized.  But I know it was just as much about me. So along with lice came secrecy, and I believe there are very few times secrets benefit anyone...

Recently I've begun to realize that lice and addiction have a great deal in common; lice and addiction are "besties".  They both can strike anyone; neither cares, who you are, who you know or how much money you have.  They both are hard to beat--it takes endless amounts of time, effort and even pain.  They both can reappear/relapse when you least expect it. They both can attack with one exposure or you can roll the dice many times before they appear, and there are some who will never have to suffer with either even if participating in risky behavior. They both become a family problem. They both rob us of time spent with those we love, doing those things we love. And they both come with fear and secrecy and shame.

The thing about lice is it's typically an elementary school problem.  Addiction, for most, surfaces later. Which makes me wonder...perhaps if we could learn to be more open, honest, and transparent about lice; perhaps if we shared our experiences, our challenges, and our successes; perhaps if we learned to work together, instead of judging one another, perhaps if we focused on what it would take to contain lice, to eradicate lice, to educate our children and others about lice instead of just giving thanks it had yet to permeate our own family's life--perhaps, just perhaps the lice "epidemic" would release it's hold on society, and it would take addiction with it.