War on Lice, Northern Front

Friday morning I was asked by the secretary to check a girl for lice. When she came to my office, she had some nits: enough that I wouldn’t call her “loaded” but enough that I wasn’t willing to pick them out myself. I called the mother and was met with a long and draining rant.

Angry Mom: “I can’t believe she has them. She has had them for so long. I have done everything to my house, I’ve shampooed her, I’ve done the bomb to the house, I shaved her head, I spent over $300 fighting this thing and she is STILL getting it. Have you checked her class? I need you to check her class. She is getting this at school, I know she is. I’ve already called the public health department on you and told them how filthy your school is.” [Note: The girl was sitting in front of me, with hair well past her shoulders. There is no way her head was shaved anytime in the last year, but I wasn't about to argue with this lady.]

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, I understand this must be very frustrating for you.”

Angry Mom: “You do NOT understand what this is like. YAK YAK YAK.”

Me: “I just need you to come pick your daughter up, please.”

The woman was talking so fast I could barely understand her, but I got the gist of it: this is one angry woman. I hoped it was over then, but as I was drifting off to sleep Sunday night I realized with a start that I would be at the school again Monday, and it would be my job to check the girl again. I tried to dream good thoughts in hopes she would be nit-free.

I would not be so lucky. The girl again entered my office first thing on Monday, accompanied by a note fraught with errors, asking me to call the mother whether she was nit free or not. She was not, but there were few enough – and the mother so awful to deal with – that I picked them out myself. Grudgingly, I called Angry Mom back, trying my best to focus on the positive.

Me: “I just checked her daughter and while there were a few nits, I took them out and she is in class now. She looks SO much better and I can tell you worked hard on it this weekend.”

Angry Mom: “HOW CAN THERE BE ANY NITS?! I spent over FOUR hours on her head yesterday, that’s impossible!! Where were they? Tell me exactly where they were, I don’t believe you.”

And so it went. When I hung up, I hoped it was over then, but again, I would not be so lucky.

Not twenty minutes later, the phone rang for me. It was the county of education’s nurse who, as nicely as she could, informed me that the public health department was looking for me – to discuss lice complaints. I wasn’t surprised to hear it was in regards to Angry Mom, but I softened (only slightly) when I heard she is a foster mother. The county nurse let me give my side of the story – district policy doesn’t force me to do a class check for lice until there have been three confirmed cases in the class, but I had gone ahead Friday and checked the girl’s friends just to satisfy the mother – and said the public health nurse would be in touch with me if they needed anything else. This time, when I hung up, I knew it wasn’t over, and in these kinds of cases, it’s not going to end unless they move.