For Dr. Jones, it was snakes. For me, it's lice.
Working at triage the other night, I had just finished hooking a patient up to the BP cuff and pulse ox and was starting to write his name on a wrist band when the nurse registering the guy started squealing and pushed her chair back away from the desk. Following her pointed finger to the patient's arm, I leaned in closer to she what was so excited about, then immediately jumped back myself as I noticed several little white critters inching their way along the black backdrop of the BP cuff.
Asking him if he knew he had lice prompted the response, "Oh sure, I have 'em all the time."
Totally skeeved, we covered ourselves head to toe in plastic, dragged him to the Hazmat room and showered him off after placing his clothes in a double-lined plastic bag. We then returned to the triage desk and wiped down every single surface.
I could feel my skin crawling for the next six hours.
I hate lice.