My Brush with Cicada Shells
So, cicada slough, or cicada shells, whatever you wanna call ’em. Heard a lot about these things. People go on about how they’re some kind of miracle cure. You hear stuff like:
- Good for a sore throat, makes you stop coughing.
- Helps with itchy skin, rashes, all that annoying stuff.
- Some even say it can stop kids from crying at night. Wild, right?
Sounds pretty amazing on paper, doesn’t it? Well, I had my own little run-in with these famous shells a while back, and let me tell ya, it was an experience.
It all started when my youngest, bless his cotton socks, came down with this awful, itchy rash. We were at our wits’ end. Tried all the usual stuff from the drugstore – creams, ointments, you name it. Nothing seemed to really knock it on the head. He was miserable, and frankly, so were we. Sleep? What was that?
Then, my auntie, bless her heart, she’s a goldmine of these old-school remedies, she chimes in during a family call. “You need cicada slough! The doctor back in my village swore by it for things like this!” Cicada slough! Honestly, it sounded like something a witch doctor would prescribe. But, you know how it is. When you’re desperate, and you’ve got a little one suffering, you’ll pretty much try anything that sounds halfway plausible, or even slightly bonkers.
So, the great cicada slough hunt began. It’s not like you can just pop down to the local pharmacy and pick it up next to the band-aids. Oh no. I first asked around, then someone pointed me to this old traditional medicine shop tucked away in a back alley. The kind of place that smells like dried everything and has jars filled with things you can’t quite identify. The old guy behind the counter barely blinked when I asked. Just nodded, shuffled to a drawer, and pulled out a small bag of these brittle, golden-brown husks. Looked like dead bugs, which, well, they kinda are, aren’t they?
Got them home. Now what? Auntie’s instructions were a bit vague over the phone – “Grind ’em up, mix with a little something, put it on.” Real specific. So, I did my best. Crushed them into a powder. It was a bit fiddly, those things are super light and papery. Mixed it with a tiny bit of water to make a paste. The whole thing felt a bit… medieval. There I was, in my modern kitchen, making a bug-shell paste.
Then came the moment of truth. Applied it to the kid’s rash. He wasn’t too thrilled, I can tell you that. Can’t blame him. And did it work? Well, here’s the kicker. The rash did eventually clear up a few days later. But, and it’s a big but, we’d also, just out of sheer desperation, started using a new prescription cream from the pediatrician around the same time. Coincidence? Maybe. Was it the cicada shells? Was it the new cream? Did the rash just decide it had overstayed its welcome? Honestly, your guess is as good as mine.
So, that was my practical experiment with cicada slough. Made me think, you know? These old remedies, they’ve been around for ages. Sometimes I reckon it’s the belief that does half the work. Or maybe it’s just a way for folks to feel like they’re doing something when modern stuff ain’t cutting it fast enough. I’m not saying it’s useless, not at all. But my experience? It’s just one story, and it ended with a big ol’ question mark. Still got a few of those shells tucked away in a jar somewhere. Just in case, you know? Or maybe just as a souvenir from my little adventure into the world of traditional remedies.
