Want to learn something about your friends? Ask them how they get rid of ticks.
I was with a group of mine around the time I started looking into the different methods Mainers have for removing and disposing of ticks that they find on themselves and their pets, as the incidence of Lyme disease rises and with tick activity about to ramp up again later this month.
So, I asked the collection of local ladies in front of me.
One said she used to flush them down the toilet but felt that was a waste of water and started suffocating them in a jar of vinegar instead. How green!
Another said her husband removes them with tape, then leaves them on the windowsill for a while in case symptoms develop, so he can send them for testing if needed. How prudent!
And yet another said she gets out her grill lighter and sets them aflame because she likes to watch them burn. How … interesting.
Judging by one of the frequently asked questions on the University of Maine Cooperative Extension Tick Lab’s website, people do all sorts of stuff.
“After I removed my tick I covered it in alcohol, cooking oil, or another substance. Can you still test it?” it asks.
The answer reveals even more means of tick murder: “In most cases, yes. … However, bleach, acetone, and other harsh chemicals may limit our ability to complete a test.”
Tick Lab Director Griffin Dill says there are right and wrong ways to remove a tick. You should use fine-tipped tweezers, grasp it as close to the skin as possible, then slowly and steadily pull it straight out without twisting or squeezing the body.
“The goal is to remove the tick fully without leaving the head or mouthparts behind, however, if this does occur the body will treat the parts left behind like a splinter and eject them over time,” Dill wrote in an email, adding that marketed tick-removal devices, like ticks spoons or keys, are generally effective as well.
You should not, he said, use other removal methods you might have heard, like burning it with a match or hot needle, or covering it in dish soap, acetone or Vaseline. While those might work to get them off your skin, Dill said, they also “can potentially cause the tick to regurgitate back into the bite site.” Enough said.
But there’s room wiggle room in how you dispose of a tick after it’s removed. If you want to send it to the lab for testing — as Mainers have been doing 15-20% more frequently this year than last — put it in a ziplock bag or other sealed container, dead or alive. If you decide not to test it, put it in a sealed container in the trash, burn it or flush it. (Note that ticks must be attached at least 24 hours to transmit Lyme disease, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)
The one thing the CDC warns not to do is squish a tick with your fingers. Dill said that’s because any pathogens it’s carrying could get on your hands and into any cuts or other breaks in the skin.
But the number of acceptable options there are explains why so many of us have developed our own personal style of tick slaughter.
Sarah Holman of Portland, a Registered Maine Guide who leads hiking trips all over New England through her company She Hikes Mountains, always carries a first-aid kit with tiny tweezers, but for really small ticks, she says a safety pin works better for getting under the head and flicking it off.
What she does next depends on the situation. If someone from her group finds a tick while they’re sitting down for lunch, she’ll kill it by burning it with a lighter or squishing it with a rock, so it can’t find its way to someone else.
If it happens while they’re hiking, she said, “I just try to get it as far away from me as possible and move on.”
Although Holman doesn’t feel the need to keep them for testing, since they likely haven’t been attached for long, she makes sure to clean the bite area with a sterile alcohol pad.
Jeri Maurer, president of the board of directors of the Stanton Bird Club, which owns Thorncrag Sanctuary in Lewiston and Woodbury Bird Sanctuary in Monmouth, encounters a lot of ticks between her extensive gardening and the meadows of high grass at Thorncrag.
She’s gotten Lyme disease once before, in the unlikely month of December after preparing her gardens for the winter, and she said she ends up calling her doctor for an antibiotic prescription every year after finding an embedded tick.
Maurer and her husband keep jars with rubbing alcohol around their house — in the bathroom, in the solarium and out on the porch — so there’s always one close by to contain (and kill) any ticks they find.
She knows other people who burn them in their woodstove or flush them down the toilet, but the latter doesn’t sit quite right with her.
“I’m always a little skeptical that they won’t crawl back up,” she said.