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Member-only story
Stranger Things
My Child’s Future Rested on the Results of the Next MRI
In life, it’s all about your perspective
A couple of times a year, the dreaded email arrived.
Not the email asking for parent volunteers for field trips or math circle. Something worse.
“NO! Lice is goin’ around again,” said Brigit, who was in 4th grade. “I don’t want it.”
“Me neither. What would I do about my hair? I’m not cutting my hair.” Alana, a 7th grader, wore a baseball cap over her long, wavy, thick hair that, even after brushing, displayed tangles and snarls. If anyone were going to get lice, it would be her.
So far so good
I checked her hair each day, and so far, all had been well.
Saturday morning arrived, and it was time for a hair check. Alana sat on a bar stool next to our granite counter. I brushed her hair, and my heart beat faster when I pulled something out. I paused as I looked at the thing in my hand.
“What is it, Mom? Is it lice? Do I have lice? I can’t cut my hair! What are we gonna do?” said Alana, her eyes darting around the room and her breath quickening.
“Let me put this in a Ziplock. It might just be dandruff. I don’t know. Just hold on.”
Alana asked to look at it, so I handed it to her.
“I need to get a magnifying glass,” I said.
Did she faint or something worse?
When I got about five feet away, Alana said, “I’m gonna faint.”
I sprinted to her but too late. She slumped over the bar stool beside her and crashed to the floor. My heart raced. My mind screamed, “NO! NO! NO!” As I cradled her, I watched her arms and legs shake. She moaned.
I flashed back to the many times this had happened when she was young, and my heart and mind raced: Will the shaking stop? This hasn’t happened for so long? Why now? Do I need to call 911? What will happen IF she has lice?
