Ok, so I have been going through an intense mental process in the decision about whether or not to share one of my major battles on the Race.
Do I tell my supporters at home? Will opinions of me change? What if people start to question the state of my hygiene?
After these questions swam through my mind for days, I finally decided to disclose my struggle. It signifies a period of my Race that I never thought I would experience, and it would almost feel dishonest to omit this particular journey.
Ready, folks?
Lice and their offspring decided to make my head their home.
Here is the schedule of events starting in Moldova:
1:30 a.m. – Tuesday, May 1: Rachel wanders into my room, scratching her head. She tells me that she is afraid that she might have lice. Christina checks her head. Nothing. I tell her to not worry; surely she was just being paranoid. Who gets lice outside of elementary school?
1:00 p.m. – Saturday, May 5: We enjoy a picnic with our contacts on our last day in Moldova. The afternoon is spent relaxing, singing songs and playing cards. A look back at the documentation clearly shows the intermingling between Rachel’s hair and mine.
10:00 a.m.–Tuesday, May 7: Debrief in Chisnau. Rachel grabs my arm and pulls me into her room. She has lice, and by the looks of it, she's had it for weeks. Home girl goes to the hospital and buys every lice-killing potion in a ten-mile radius.
3:00 p.m. – Tuesday, May 7: Candace checks my hair; I’m declared lice free. My heart rejoices at the luck in avoiding this plague.
9:00 a.m. – Wednesday, May 8: Bill Swann gives a talk about having an abundance mentality. We think about the things we desire most, and then we pray these requests over another person. Molly prays for peace over me. I think, “Weird, I’m already pretty peaceful. I don’t feel like I need that prayer right now, but thanks.”
1:00 p.m. – Wednesday, May 8: Sitting in a park after lunch, Team Oasis decides to double-check each member. Christina looks through head after head. Reagan is clear. Rebekah is fine. Suze has no bugs. She gets to me and starts looking. Silence. Finally, I say, “Just tell me. Say it. I just need to know.” Chris sighs and admits that she sees an egg. I quietly take the news and realize why I needed a prayer for peace as panic threatens to set in.
2:00 p.m. – Wednesday, May 8: My head is treated with a burning spray that reminds me of gasoline. I become a tornado in a shower cap, grabbing any clothing that I have worn in the past few days and throwing it into boiling water to kill all bugs.
2:15 p.m. – Wednesday, May 8: I realize my purse that was thrown into the boiling water has successfully bled and stained most of my clothes. Goodbye, perfect mint green v-neck. Hello, tie-dyed madness.
Wednesday – Saturday (travel days): My roommate/squad bestie/Florence Nightingale of the lice epidemic picks eggs out of my head for hours. We laugh, eat chocolate and watch episodes of Felicity during the ordeal. Marie, girl, I still owe you about two hundred Snickers bars.
9:00 a.m. – Sunday, May 13: We arrive in Africa and our main contact, Angie, has gotten us true Mozambican cures for lice. She delivers small glass bottles filled with what looks like black sand with a promise to obliterate the critters.
4:00 p.m. – Monday, May 14: Rachel and I dunk our heads into the Mozambican concoction. The water and black crystal mixture turns bright purple, and for a period of time we worry about our hair being dyed as well.
3:00 p.m. – The whole month of May in Mozambique: Team members of Oasis report for lice pickin’ duty. I help to pass the time by reading The Hunger Games aloud. Soon, no eggs can be found in my hair. Rachel’s day of no eggs comes shortly after.
12:00 p.m. – Friday, May 18: We decide to pay tribute to our battle with lice through some slight rearrangements of a Dixie Chicks song. The whole team participates, and we celebrate being survivors. Check it.
