Be Tick Quick

I have never in my life experienced more up close and personal encounters with ticks than I have since becoming a parent. Or becoming a Virginian. I’m not sure which is the culprit. But I love them both. My children and my state, that is. Not the ticks. 

I’ve become equally paranoid and accustomed to the tiny beasts. It’s quite bizarre. I now almost expect at least one person in my family to attract one or several blood-sucking parasites on every camping trip. “Tick check!” has become our mantra. A war cry is more like it. My camper first aid kit contains tweezers, among other ancient homeopathic remedies like cotton swabs. I’m sure you’ve heard of that little trick that tends to make the administrator more dizzy than the tick. It works every other time. If I don’t pass out first.

Some ticks are caught quickly and extracted fairly easily. A warm washcloth helps lure them out if we’re lucky. But then there are the hitchhikers. Those who have literally set up camp on flesh and traveled home with us. Or the neighborly kind that have visited, for who knows how long, from the woods behind our house.

I may be the only person who has taken their daughter to the doctor to have a tick removed. After mom, dad, and grandmother have exhausted all the MacGyver tools and tricks in the book, it’s time for professional help. And when even the doctor struggles and sends you home with instructions to “keep a close eye on it because half the tick may still be in there” you know that was a feisty one with gorilla grip. 

There are also those inconvenient moments when you run out of time and have to tell your son to “maybe not share that you’ve brought a pet to church today and we’ll take care of it later.” Speaking of inconvenience, have you noticed how ticks have terrible attachment location preferences? I’ll just leave that bit of information right there. 

Then there are those moments you find ticks in the freezer. Yes, we are those people who will discover labeled baggies with a tiny tick specimen in the freezer years later. And be equally grossed out and thankful whoever the frozen pest was attached to at some point is apparently doing just fine.

And there are the moments paranoia comes into play. Have I mentioned we are a freckled and moley bunch? Heaven forbid I find new freckles in the shower after I’ve spent some time outdoors. Slick tile is not meant for startled bathers.

As a huge outdoors fan, I am not a fan of the tick. Ticks could disappear and I’m pretty sure no one would miss them. Well maybe the opossums, but I’m fairly certain that’s an old wives' tale anyway.

I guess it’s the price we pay for adventure. So, while I agree that we must be “bear aware” I urge you, fellow outdoor lovers, to also be “tick quick.” Yep. Signs coming soon to an outdoors near you.

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