A Thank-You Letter to Head Lice

Growing up in the USSR (yes, there once was such a country) these critters were virtually unheard of. Besides being prominently featured in the nightmarish memoirs of those who survived THE WAR — both on the battlefront and on the homefront, they were the affliction of the poor, the uncultured, the uncivilized — everything we, the proud citizens of the country of victorious socialism, were not. School nurses diligently checked us, of course, but it was a required formality rather than an actual necessity. In my 11 years of schooling there, only once was a kid in my class discovered to have head lice. What followed would put the CDC to shame: everyone was sent home immediately, parents were instructed to treat us (kerosene mixed with sunflower oil, massaged into the hair and scalp, plastic bag on top, hold for at least an hour). The next day the nurse inspected each and every student. The offending kid was quarantined at home for a week and for the following two weeks checked in the nurses’ office every morning before being allowed to join us. The poor guy — as luck would have it, owner of a full head of beautiful, thick, curly hair — was given a crew cut and endured a few months of not-so-goodnatured teasing. Overkill? Yes. But boy, did I miss it later…..

In the US my kids went to a private preschool. Lice were never an issue. And then we came to Israel. Prior to the move, I did thorough research on every topic I thought would be relevant. Lice never even occurred to me as something to look into. Two weeks after my 5 year old started kindergarten, she began itching. Knowing her to be very sensitive and allergy-prone, I tried different shampoos and conditioners, bought a water filter (the water in Jerusalem has insane amounts of limescale), a humidifier and a gentler brush. She continued itching, tearing at her scalp until it bled. Then her 3- and 2- year old siblings began doing the same. While waiting for the pediatrician appointment I had compiled a list of possible culprits and ailments, including psoriasis and sand flies. As we filed into the office and I began to describe our predicament, the doctor took one cursory look at their heads and cut me off. “They have head lice. It’s very common here. Go to the pharmacy, buy one of the treatments they recommend and a tight-toothed brush”. I think I would have reacted better to psoriasis. My head just wasn’t ready to wrap itself around that one. The doctor was nice enough to patiently explain that head lice are rampant all through preschool and elementary and taper off in middle school and up, as the kids are more self-conscious and are able to do “check-ups and maintenance”, as he put it, themselves. No, the schools don’t check them. No, they are not sent home and not kept home until the problem is solved. No, there are no policies, neither in public nor private schools. Seeing me still struggling, he decided that, while he was at it, he might as well save me another culture shock and clarified that intestinal worms were almost as common. In a stupor, I asked about a follow-up appointment. “What for?” — he asked in surprise. “To check if they still have them” — I feebly answered. Then he finally laughed and told me I’ll have to learn the trade myself.

To make the long story short, in the following 10 years I’ve stopped freaking out and became a pro of lice detection, even from a few feet away. I’ve spent at least a year’s tuition on head-lice treatments and an untold number of man-hours on applying, rinsing and combing. I have the containment and decontamination routines down to military precision. And in hindsight, frustrating and gross as it is, I am grateful. Besides learning to put things in perspective and deal with recurring unpleasantness, those untold man-hours became a blessing. No matter how tired you are or how late it is, you sit down with that child and you comb. And comb. And talk, and hug, and giggle, and kiss. Looking back, I’m convinced that in all the craziness of our schedules I would’ve never had that much quality one-on-one time with my children if it wasn’t for lice. Those pestering crustaceans gave us the gifts of patience, forgiveness and compassion (scalps get scratched, hair gets pulled) and of regaining and maintaining closeness that so easily evaporates in the hub-dub of everyday routines. They gifted me with rediscovering each and every time what amazing humans my babies have become and with the wisdom of knowing when to keep quite and just listen. They taught all of us to appreciate the healing and calming powers of human touch (yes, we completely do get those grooming monkeys). Through hours upon hours of combing we have shared stories, secrets, wishes, worries and plans. We have reaffirmed our trust, our love and our respect. We have resolved and prevented countless conflicts and misunderstandings. With gifts like these, you take them and say thank you, no matter where they come from. So, dear head lice — many thanks, but I think we got it from here:))))