Tick Bites That Won't Go Away

In general, I am a very itchy person. I don't have eczema or any other skin condition but the tiniest insect bite will send me into an uncontrollable scratching frenzy. I will scratch and scratch until I make myself bleed, I've even been known to take a hair brush to the offending site which usually results in a mass of bleeding lesions, making the original bite ten times bigger than it was to start with. I do it subconsciously, I even do it in my sleep...honestly if I were dog they'd put a bucket (Elizabethan collar) on my head. To make matters worse, I seem to be incredibly attractive to the insect world, if there were a hundred people in a room and one mosquito, it will bite me. Luckily, I heal quite rapidly once the itching stops.

A couple of months ago, what I thought was a mozzie bite appeared on my upper calf. True to form I scratched it until I'd made a huge mess. The itchiness was intense, almost constant and getting worse. I made a conscious effort not to scratch it and bombarded the area with just about every over-the-counter anti-itch remedy known to man. To no avail. In desperation I started picking aloe vera off my plant and smearing the sap onto the itchy bits. This provided very temporary relief from the itching but it still wouldn't heal and my skin started to turn greenish yellow from the aloe vera sap. Not a good look when combined with an angry, red, manky bite wound. I was beginning to worry that it might actually be skin cancer or something nasty like that.

I'd been suffering with this bite for about six weeks when one day while chatting on the phone with a friend, I suddenly felt an itch on my stomach. I absentmindedly gave it a rub through my t-shirt, and continued the conversation which was one of those good old catch-up, chin-wag, marathon kind of conversations, all the while intermittently rubbing the itchy spot. Still talking on the phone, I wandered inside to put the kettle on and gave it another rub. It felt like a scab so I lifted my shirt to see what I initially thought was a dried blood scab. Even I couldn't have self- traumatised in such a short space of time...surely. After picking away at it to get the scab off, I realised that it was in fact a tick. Yeuw! Over the next couple of days the site became inflamed and intensely itchy. I soon came to the conclusion that the bite on my leg was not a mozzie bite or skin cancer as I had first thought, the itch and appearance was too similar for it not be another tick bite.

So now I had two itchy spots and they were starting to take over my life, I was itchy all the time but steadfastly determined not to scratch. Most applications would temporarily relieve the itching for a short time...anything that eased it for an hour or more was considered an almost cure. Unfortunately, the bite on my stomach was/is in the perfect position to allow the waistline of all of my clothes to irritate it further. The itching was driving me crazy. The the low grade constant tickle, interspersed with sudden intense periods of itchiness made me want to dig into it with a knife and I had made it worse by scratching around the edge of the inflamed area, my itchy bits were getting bigger and bigger, and itchier and itchier.

In desperation I Googled 'tick bites' and stumbled across a forum. Scores of people saying that they had been suffering similarly to me. I was shocked to discover that most of these people had been enduring the symptoms for months, sometimes even years and the general consensus was that there is not a lot that can be done. There were several victims who had had the area surgically excised only to find that after a period of time the itchy lesion returned. Conclusion; some things provide temporary relief but it seems that once you have had an allergic reaction, it is likely that you will suffer intermittent relapses whatever you do. With a sinking feeling I logged off and set off for the school pick-up.

My school carpark friends were by now intimately familiar with my tick bites, so when I arrived I miserably related my findings to anyone who would listen. One of my friends suddenly disappeared, after about five minutes she re-appeared with another lady in tow. Turns out she is a Homeopath and she said she had just the thing for me. She prescribed Ledum, to be taken in pillule form and dissolved under the tongue. Ledum is an African plant extract which apparently stimulates your immune system to halt an allergic reaction to insect bites. What the hey, I was ready to try anything. The next day I took delivery of three doses of Ledum, my instructions were to take four pillules once daily, stop if reaction occurs (negative or positive). After two doses my itchiness was gone and the lesion on my leg was healing before my eyes. Ahhh...my new best friend is the Homeopath. Although my stomach lesion was much better, it didn't seem to be clearing up as well my leg and I was still experiencing periodic bouts of intense itchiness. So I took another dose of Ledum and the itchiness disappeared...for a while.

The lesion on my leg has almost completely healed. I can just see a tiny dot where the original bite was. But the stomach one was refusing to heal. The Homeopath then gave me some Rhus (another extract from the same genus as Ledum) of which I took two doses. She also gave me some dried chamomile and calundula flowers with instructions to either prepare and drink as a tea or to apply as a wash to the affected area. I didn't do that at first because the Rhus had taken away the itch. Then suddenly the whole thing flared up again, red, itchy and downright depressing. I mixed up the concoction as directed and applied it as a wash. It made it immediately worse! Needless to say I only applied it once. Browsing around the local health shop, I saw a lot of things that claimed to relieve the symptoms of allergic reactions to insect bites. Products that were all in the $40-$60 price-range, so I was hesitant to make that much of an investment when it might not work. Then, on the way out I spotted a little tube of paw paw cream on the counter and for $5 I figured I had nothing to lose. I could always use it for other stuff if it didn't heal the tick bite. But guess what! It's working! I've been applying it several times a day for a week now, and the lesion is markedly improving.

So there you have it, Ledum and paw paw cream is the way to go. But I also think that mind power has a lot to do with it. I still occasionally experience a pang of itchiness in both my leg and my stomach and I have no doubt that if I were to even momentarily succumb and scratch, it would definitely result in the whole thing starting again. And I so do not want that to happen. I have trained myself to ignore any itchy signals from those two areas, it usually only lasts a minute or less anyway, but I'm fairly certain that I am going to be aware of my tick bite sites for the rest of my days. I mustn't scratch.

There's an irony in this story. After spending hours on the Internet trying to find a cure, the solution was ultimately found in the humble, local Primary School carpark. Never underestimate the power of carpark gossip. Next time I'll mention my problem there first.

I Remember

I remember what it was like as a nine-(nearly ten) year-old trying to find my way. I remember feeling either exhilarated and excited about growing up, or nervous with increasing self doubt. I remember the despair of arriving at school to find that my best friend didn't want to hang out with me any more, and I remember the disappointment when I'd worked really hard on a project or test only to piqued at the post for an award by some other kid who I secretly thought of as a dumb bunny. I really remember always coming second. But I got over it...I really did. The thing is, nobody told me that when I had my own child I was going to be reliving all of those conflicting emotions again. And it is so much worse the second time around. When I see angst and disappointment in the eyes of the precious being I created, the one I've loved and nurtured for the last nine (nearly ten) years, I remember how I once felt. And it cuts me to the bone to know that I am powerless (just as my mother was) to take the pain away. Suddenly I am no longer able to protect my child from the nasty world.

Knowing that it will all be ok in the end doesn't make it any easier... and try telling that to a nearly ten-year-old. All I can do is say "Yeah Babe...I know... it sucks!" (because it does) and keep on encouraging and supporting and loving. I wonder which child I will be picking up from school this afternoon. Will I be greeted with jubilance or tears? Please, please, please let it be jubilance.

I Wish I Could Draw

There's an ad on television at the moment promoting a new 'super toy' for kids, it's an interactive TV game. To make it work the child has to pedal on a bike, if they stop pedalling it stops working. Great idea...or not. Instead of parking the kid in front of the TV all day with a packet of chips and a soft drink, parents can rest assured that little Johnny or Jenny is getting a good cardio workout while enjoying the wonders of multimedia recreation. I think they are going to sell millions of this thing. First time I saw it, I thought what a pity this wasn't around a couple of years ago. But now I'm not so sure. The kids now aged between 7-12 are all at risk of becoming obese, with RSI (repetitive strain injury) from constant toggling with Play Station controls. So, according to media reports, there's going to be a load of fat teenagers with deformed thumbs wandering around in the not too distant future. But imagine what the now 3-4 year olds are going to look like. I'm seeing entire kindy classes with massively bulked up legs (from years of pedalling), and underdeveloped, atrophied little upper bodies (except maybe the thumbs, they'll still be big and muscular), and in generations to come, they will probably have huge heads to accomodate a huge brain (this toy also claims to increase brain power). I really wish I could draw. Whatever happened to monkey bars and trips to the park. And here's a novel idea...what about interacting with the children personally instead of relying on a disembodied electronic voice to teach them.

Just Do It

I can't stand gunnas. A gunna is someone who is always talking about what they are gunna do without ever actually doing anything. You know what I mean...I'm gunna get a job, I'm gunna lose weight, I'm gunna write a book, I'm gunna travel, paint, act, sing, make a garden... Everyone knows at least one gunna. The truth is, when you first meet a gunna you think they are really interesting because gunnas love to tell anyone who will listen about all the things they're gunna do, but after you've spoken to them a couple of times you realise that they are really very boring. A gunna will have an arsenal of excuses to explain why, whatever it was they were gunna do didn't come to fruition. Inevitably it's someone else's fault, the universe tends to conspire against gunnas. So they go through life feeling extremely hard done by, and wondering why people are always moving away from them at parties. A long time ago I decided that I was never going to be a gunna, instead, I was going to be doer, which brings me to this point in time, writing my first post on my first blog. Wow! It's kinda scary. It took me about two hours just to think of a name for my blog. I'm not going to tell you how long these couple of paragraphs have taken to compose. The way I see it, I can only get better lol.

Writing is like any other form of creativeness (Is that a word? Maybe it should be creativity), in that whenever you produce a written piece, you are laying bare a part of yourself to the world, thus exposing that self to criticism and god forbid... ridicule. It was for this reason that I almost became a gunna myself. Yes it's true, although I've never actually uttered the words "I'm gunna", I have used language that has taken me dangerously close to the mark. As an editor/proofreader I am often asked if I write myself. I've realised that I invariably answer with "I might... I should... I'm thinking about... or I'd like to..." Does that make me a borderline gunna? Oh no, not me. So today I gave myself a stern talking to, slapped myself around the chops a couple of times and just did it.