Piojos..?!?!?!?

Sooo I have head lice. FML. And terrible lower-back pain, because my body suddenly decides to go loco on me since coming to Argentina and bless me with a monthly cycle that actually occurs way more frequently than on the month, and with accompanying cramps of off-the-scale pain that I had not experienced before switching hemispheres. I have my recently-purchased box of "Nervocalm" (obscure Argentine herbal muscle relaxers that I acquired at a health food store on the way to boarding my bus for Iguazu Falls, in preparation for the 12-hour trip that was to ensue) open and next to me in hopes of assuaging my pain, both physical and mental, because in addition to the cursed menstrual pain, I am now thinking with dread about what's currently going on at the microscopic level in my hair and scalp. Sorry if this blog is TMI ("Too Much Info" for those of you on the outskirts of the lingo of my generation); brace yourselves.

Acting upon my intuition this morning that something wasn't right with the quantity of itching and scratching I was inflicting upon my scalp, I decided to step into a random hair salon after my evening classes and ask the receptionists as charmingly as possible if someone might be available to sneak a peak at what I believed to be a louse-infested head. Luckily the salon was empty of other customers, because an embarrassing display of charades (had never before attempted to act out a louse) ensued before I could extract my dictionary from the depths of my backpack (which had turned into a forest of chocolate chip cookie crumbs after the plastic package I had just bought decided to turn over and empty itself unto my unorganized collection of hardly-utilized notebooks and daily planners. In case I haven't made myself clear, school here is a joke and there is only a very small need for daily planners considering the amount of responsibility I don't have.) Anyway, a middle-aged, slightly greasy-looking, gold-chain adorned man obliged, and after poking around with a comb in my hair for a bit (me, meanwhile, suppressing screams of pain...I have a fragile head), and a a mis-diagnosis that I was "probably just agitated from the recently-come heat," "lamented to tell me" that I did, indeed, have "piojos," and proceeded to show me a strand of my own precious head hair which, indeed, exhibited a firmly-attached, tiny little clearish-white louse egg. Repulsive. I have never had lice in my life, and thought I was in the clear after having already surpassed the age range where contagion is most common (among kids ages 3-10). I'm pretty sure it's from working in the orphanage. I should have taken as a sign one of the "moms" at the orphanage combing the lice-killing-cream-saturated-hair of one of the toddlers, to actually consider the advice I had been previously given about going to the orphanage with my hair covered with a preventative spray. But at the time I didn't think that the cost of funky-smelling hair would outweigh the benefit of not getting head lice. How mistaken I now realize I was.

Moving on. I went to the nearest Farmacity drugstore after the man at the hair salon wrote down the name of the shampoo and cream I needed to buy. The employee at the store obviously did not realize I had just received awful news and, resultantly, undergone severe psychological damage, because she was not in the least bit helpful or sympathetic toward my cause. Luckily, a kind, 20-something woman wearing overly-large headphones approached me (apparently my body language, as I stared at the millions of louse-killing hair products with Spanish instructions before my eyes, indicated confusion) and asked me if she might help me with something. I jumped on her offer and 10 minutes later I left Farmacity with the same products she had used as a kid to rid her own self of lice, and also with a box of tampons. Not an embarrassing combination of goods in the least. And of course the cashier was a young, attractive, potentially date-able male. I had my story all worked out in my head, should he inquire, as to why I was buying these specific goods. Luckily I was not the recipient of any awkward questions, because the story about my younger brother who had contracted head lice and my younger sister who had just started her period and was too embarrassed to buy tampons in public was not well-crafted anyway.

On the way home from Farmacity, I thought of nothing but all the little critters that were (and still are) probably making their homes in my hair, and the exponentially growing quantity of those gross little white eggs attached to the root of each strand. I nearly tripped on the uneven sidewalk in my transit home in efforts to avoid a man walking his especially evil-looking, probably lice-carrying dog, and later, once safely inside my apartment, was startled and angered again by another dog-related incident as I was ascending the staircase to my floor and the loudest bark ever echoed off the tile walls and caused my heartbeat to race up to 3x the normal average and for me to brace the cold wall for support, which I later realized had some mysterious cleaning substance on it which dirtied my white blouse...but considering I'm going to have to wash it for 20 minutes anyway in scalding hot water to kill all the little louse eggs, I guess it shouldn't matter. All the way home I was also debating whether or not to tell my host mom about my "condition," fearing that she would decide to either give me the boot or quarantine me in my room for the rest of my stay in Argentina. Ultimately decided to tell her, largely because the only suitable excuse I could think of for having to later ask her to change my sheets and towels and wash all my clothes in hot water would have been more embarrassing than the actual truth (was going to somehow relate it to current female issues...) Also, didn't think to consider that she has 5 daughters, and is probably an expert in the area of louse-removal.

Anyway, I'm currently waiting anxiously and hungrily for dinner to be served (seeing as it's currently 8:40pm, I probably have at least a good hour to go...again, my body will never adjust to the schedule here) so that Maria can be done with all the cooking and household chores and fulfill her promise to help me with the de-lousal process. I'm feeling a little calmer about the whole thing now (perhaps due to the Nervocalm), although I'll admit that I was freeeeaking out earlier. All my friends in Argentina get mugged or robbed, end up breaking their computers or water damaging their cameras, yet I get HEAD LICE. That's like, 1000 times worse than any other misfortune. BECAUSE CREATURES ARE MAKING THEIR BEDS IN MY HEAD!!! At least I'm learning some new vocabulary...? Updates to follow....