Ew ticks…

You know how when you have an itch- bug bite or whatever- they tell you “DON’T SCRATCH IT!” and so you try not to.  You can find all sorts of hints and tips like “rub it gently with a dry washcloth”  or “Put a dab of vinegar on it with a q-tip.” and there’s some granola-head from Oregon who knows of a tree in India where if the roots are chewed by a Punjab Swami and pasted on the itchy spot, not only will the itch  go away but it’s possible you’ll be reincarnated as a Siamese cat. Which, now that I think about it, might not be so bad. I digress.

I do not tolerate an itch. Ever. At all. I would rather pour lemon juice into an open cut than have an itch and I am not exaggerating. How do I know this? Because an intractable itch on this hide of mine is best dealt with (thank goodness I am not a Victoria’s Secret thong model…for more reasons than this but this one works for the topic) by scratching the damn thing open and dosing it with rubbing alcohol. Yes, I howl for a few seconds, but the afterburn is easier to live with than a niggling little itch.

er...hee.

er…hee.

One of the symptoms of kidney disease, which I have, is itchy skin.  There was a while, back then when it was new and not quite controlled, that we went through a lot of isopropyl.

Now that it’s under control, that is no longer an issue. However, now that it is Summer and I’ve spent some time outside in the Country, there’s ticks. I hate ticks. They creep me out and with the whole Lyme disease/Deer tick thing, they are even creepier. Little crawling 8 legged dealers of doom and misery. Festering plague delivery devices. With creepy crawly little legs and eeeeeyuh…..brrrr.

And I found one.

In a spot where no one ever looks. And it’s not publicly acceptable to scratch if it itches there. What the hell.  The tick was removed as best I could considering I’ve never been a contortionist with Cirque du Soleil,  but alas, the head is probably still in there and well…you know.

tick yoga

So a search through the medicine cabinet and a bit of Southern Ingenuity came up with a plan. And you know what, it works. Not only does it work, it’s good for about 10 hours of relief, enough for a decent night’s sleep or a trip to Savannah free of having to hide behind men’s Izod rack at Belk.  You want to know what it is?? Of course you do!

and you’re going to laugh…but I’m telling you, it’s the best remedy since a nurse told me to use Preparation H on a sunburn..

Orajel PM.  The stuff for a toothache. A little dab of that, rubbed in. It tingles for a second, and the itch increases for about 10 seconds (control yourself,deep breathing or something!) and then…nothing. Numb, no itching. Wow!  I saw the stuff in the first aid kit and thought “numb is numb, right? Right!”

Here’s where someone jumps in and tells me how wrong that is, but I think it’s probably better than having an open wound (because I scratched it to pieces during the night) in a place where open wounds aren’t the best idea.

There’s your Helpful Tip for the Day.

 

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About rootietoot

I do what I can.
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5 Responses to Ew ticks…

  1. Barbara says:

    “Here’s where someone jumps in and tells me how wrong that is…”

    Naaaah. It’s just benzocaine, related to lidocaine, and all those “caines” are good numbythingys. And good numbythingys on itchies I don’t care where they are are just downright good common graces. If it works, great!

    • rootietoot says:

      I love numbythingys. That was my thinking, numb is numb. Howover, I know people who will immediately thing “Mouth gel! On your…y’know…DOWN THERE…I cannot conceive of it!” and be all grossed out. But you’re an ER nurse, and cannot be grossed out.

  2. I found one crawling on my neck last night while I was in bed. Needless to say, the rest of the night was filled with frantic leaping out of bed, slapping at myself and checking the sheets in an OCD frenzy. I gotta wait til the weekend when the spousal unit gets home to check in areas I can’t even see with 3 mirrors.

    • rootietoot says:

      Yes. Every little tickle has me wanting to rip off my clothes and investigate. Terry and I have checked each other over in ways never considered by unmarried people (no matter what they say about modern times etc)

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