Bug Wars: A New Hemiptera
After reveiwing another woman’s memoirs of her bed bug experience in San Francisco, I was inspired to write my own account of our nightmare experience in New York. This may make some a little uneasy so please don’t read on if the idea grosses you out. I am telling this story because I want the world to know that even when it gets as bad as it was, you can come out victorious, and you should not let those little bastards ruin your life as they nearly did ours.
27 January 2006: It’s been one month and there have been these strange rashes on my hands. They consist of little red dots that look like bug bites but don’t seem to itch at all. I’m hesitant to announce my condition to anyone for fear they will think I have fleas or something. I’ll keep my eyes open, though, in hopes that this mystery will soon reveal its roots.
30 January 2006: Igby The Cat seems to have discovered a possible source for the red dots. I don’t know what type of insect it is, but it looks little bit like a flea. The only strange thing is that it wasn’t moving particularly fast nor did it jump while I was in it’s presence. In fact, I thought it was moving rather slow. Much to Igby’s dismay, I scrambled for the nearest tissue and wrapped it around the bug, expecting to hear the crunching noise of a cockroach or spider. Instead, it popped. It literally went *POP* and left what I’d consider an enourmous blot of dark blood on the tissue. I could be wrong, but it also seemed that it smelled strange. Not good, not bad. Just strange. Apparently the *burst* eliminated any trace of the insect that was, as I am now unable to examine it or for appropriate identification. Hopefully, though, that will be the end of the bites.
01 February 2006: Okay, so the bites have increased and are all over my body. My hands don’t itch but my abdomen sure does. So do my legs. I scratched the first layer of skin off of my right shin. Looks like Igby’s discovery wasn’t the source of my discomfort (or if it was, it wasn’t alone). Later- Igby found another bug. I got it this time. I grabbed the tweezers out of my drawer and pinched the little SOB. This one didn’t pop, though. It didn’t even leave any blood. It just did the typical “bug squirm” before going limp. I checked it out under the light. It’s an ugly little thing. It’s about the size of an adult deer tick, maybe a little bigger (or just after it’s eaten) but it’s really flat. It’s a brown color and as far as I can tell has six legs. I don’t know much about fleas but this really doesn’t appear to be one. Again, it was slow moving and didn’t jump a bit which I would expect before being picked up with tweezers. I’d ask around except both of these bugs were found on my sheets. The last thing I need is people thinking I’ve got poor hygiene; I have enough trouble getting dates!
06 February 2006: Big problem. Real big problem. I found another bug, this time without Igby’s assistance. I killed it but then quickly noticed another. I lifted my pillow and found a couple. Once they were all dead, I noticed one on the night stand. I killed it and opened the drawer only to find about fifteen of the little bastards chillin’ out in the corners. I nearly pissed myself. RAID has been purchased and the apocalypse is about to come down. I just hope that I can effectively take care of this problem without it getting out.
07 February 2006: There’s more than I thought. I removed the drawer from the nightstand and found them covering the bottom. They’re in the cracks of the bedframe, too. Lord knows they must be in my mattress. I’ve also found spots on my bedclothes and my pyjamas. They are eating me at night, I just know it. I only find these things on my bed, though. There are tiny holes in the nightstand and the bedframe, I think they’re burrowed in there. But what kind of bug burrows in wood and drinks blood? Something tells me this mystery is far from over.
08 February 2006: I’ve written a guy called “The Bug Man” about this problem but I’m afraid it’s too late. I told a co-worker about my problem and she said it could be bed bugs. I looked up a picture on the internet and sure enough, that’s it. I’ve got bed bugs. I’ve also learned that these little fuckers are tough. Real tough. Time to don the body armour; it’s time for a war.
10 February 2006: This is the worst story ever told. It gets real ugly here.
The bed bugs have successfully carried out the first strike. Somewhere around one o’clock in the morning, I was awakened from the natural result of too much wine: I had to go to the bathroom. I staggered tiredly out of my bedroom and into the bathroom. I flicked the light on and sleepily approached the toilet when, looking down, I witnessed a loathsome scene: There were bed bugs crawling all over me. The urge to piss was quickly forgotten as I literally hit myself repeatedly, crushing bugs all over my clean white shirt. They were on my back, on my neck, on my legs, and my pants. I was in a complete panic and when I finally deemed the problem eradicated, I could not stop checking myself as I tended to nature’s call.
I got back to the bedroom and turned on the light, an astute soldier expecting that a full attack was still underway. Sure enough, my bed was crawling with “enemies”. Foregoing the tissues, I realized that the blood that spurt all over my hands from popped bugs was actually my own. This made me more angry. When God rained down on Sodom and Gomorrah, there was less bloodshed. Also unlike God, I didn’t even let one bug go free.
When the battle was over, I was hesitant to lay down on my bed though I was exhausted. However, I knew that I couldn’t move to the couch. For one, I might spread the infestation if there were any that I missed. But more importantly, I couldn’t let my roommates find out. One of them nearly had a heart attack a month ago when she thought we had fleas. Bed bugs wouldn’t make her feel any more comfortable. So, like a true soldier, I lay down in hostile territory during a lull in the action, closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. But I was never quite able to shake that feeling that they were all over me and so I did not sleep very well, if at all last night.
Today, they will know more of my wrath. All of my furniture in the corner is getting tossed, all of my clothes will be washed, the exterminator will come tomorrow and we will hear no more of this bed bug ridiculousness.
11 February 2006: Those critters know how to stage an offensive.
I got to the hot zone around 5:30, took off my shirt and tie, and set to work. The mattress was difficult to bag because of its size but I anticipated such a problem. I had purchased 200 feet of plastic wrap which was just enough to wrap the entire thing twice. I didn’t see any bugs which I was banking on, given that I was attempting a sneak attack while they were sleeping (hey, fair is fair, you know?). I got the mattress down to the street and moved on to the wood furniture. First I removed the guitar gig bags that were wedged between the bed and the wall, only to find a horrific infestation sandwiched against one of the bed legs. There was no time for mourning, though. All of my gig bags were bagged and removed to the hallway.
The bugs were alerted to my presence and they began their formation. A couple of “scouts”, as I like to think of them, crawled out of the nightstand and then there were more on the floor by the bed. Armed with my economy-sized bottle of RAID, I proceeded to douse the battalions in pesiticides. Some still resisted and those bugs met my shoe.
The time had come to remove the bed frame as it seemed less infested than the nightstand and I wanted to have it out of the way. I started with the screw nearest the nightstand. I had only unscrewed it a centimeter or so when the army marched forth. Hundreds of little bugs poured out of the hole like that scene in Fellowship of the Ring where all of the Orcs and Goblins rush into the great hall of Moria. I didn’t have enough RAID and it wasn’t doing enough good anyway so I reached for a nearby hammer and began smashing the bastards, two and three at a time. As I crushed bugs with the drop of steel in my left hand, I hit the other bugs that had started to show themselves on the tapestried-wall with the RAID I held in my right hand. The scene was getting violent and very messy.
Once the attack was contained, I moved quickly to disassemble the bed frame as quickly as possible, still holding my blunt steel in case any of the blood-suckers wanted to dance. The pieces were bagged and brought immediately to the street. I knew there were still more bugs in the room and so my primary concern was total eradication before bedtime. I turned my attention to the nightstand. Rather than going through it to determine if there was anything of value left in it, I simply bagged the whole thing and brought it down to the street, never looking back. The battle was almost over. I thought.
When I returned to my bedroom, I noticed a couple of smaller bugs crawling on a set of blinds I had covering my closet. The blinds were quickly disposed of and everything washable in my closet went into containment bags. With the closet empty and the furniture gone, I thought I was on the home stretch. Then I saw a cluster of them on the wall in the corner where my tapestries folded over each other. I stretched the tapestries and found another battalion nested in the folds. They did not fall, rather, they just scattered. I started smashing them with the hammer and drenching my tapestries in RAID but it was to no avail; there were too many of them. Without flinching, I ripped the tapestries off of the walls and put them in bags but upon doing so, I found the walls absolutely covered with bed bugs (Lord knows how many must have been in the bag that the tapestries went into!). I started taking ‘em out, Braveheart style, just swinging this way and that way, trying to keep any from escaping as I knew that just one little bug could hide out and summon a whole new army in a week or less.
When the ordeal was done there were four beers in my belly and well over a hundred bed bugs on the end of my hammer. What clothing had been salvaged was bagged and quarantined until they could be brought to the laundromat. All I had were the clothes on my back. My roommates came home and had to be informed of the night’s events. Needless to say, Katie was quite concerned. We thoroughly inspected her bedroom and upon finding nothing, kicked back with a couple more drinks as I prepared for a night on our infamous couch. Katie even let me borrow her quilt that I made for her three years ago so I’d have a way to stay warm.
Today, our apartment feels like a different place. It stinks of pesticide, both RAID and the professional stuff the exterminator used. My salvaged belongings were stacked against the couch in the living room. My room was closed off unless something was seriously needed. And Igby was the most confused cat I’ve ever known.
13 February 2006: A bed bug was found in Katie’s room. The landlord won’t send the exterminator again even though it was the exterminator who didn’t treat Katie’s room. Katie and Dave have decided to sleep somewhere else until the exterminator came back. Sadly, their friends won’t take them. As soon as people find out we have bed bugs, no one wants anything to do with us, like we’re the black plague or something. I tried to explain that we will likely find bugs here and there for some time to come but it was to no avail. My roommates have jumped ship. But I stand tall, the lone soldier, and I’m even going to wear white to bed so that if any attack me in the night, I’ll be able to see them or the blood stain they leave when I roll over and pop ‘em. I’m not afraid. I will not lose my home to creatures a fraction of my own size. This is my home and I will defend it. Besides, these bugs aren’t even paying rent (they could at least help with utilities).
20 February 2006: Eradication is nigh, but we are not out of the woods yet. We set off a bug bomb in the apartment last weekend. We’ll get ‘em yet. We have an overstock of bombs and plan to smoke the place out regularly, though Igby doesn’t like the idea. We sit in the workout room downstairs and watch the Olympics while riding the bike or trying to get the treadmill to work. It’s not much fun, but it could be considerably worse.
27 February 2006: Katie’s mattress is gone. More bugs were found and the mattress was deemed unsafe. Her and Dave are sleeping on an air mattress until we’re sure it’s safe to bring in a new mattress. I don’t have new furniture yet either. I’ve been having problems getting my orders filled. However, I should have a mattress this coming weekend so at least I’ll be able to sleep on something that isn’t our couch (though I can now understand why it was so popular among friends).
03 March 2006: And now this chapter must close because we have lost the couch. We officially have no real furniture left to speak of. Seeing that couch go was the saddest thing we’ve had to do as a household. It was a temporary home to so many loved ones, myself included, and it will be well missed. Bombs continue to go off and I’ve started saturating the perimeter of my new mattress with RAID so that whatever is left won’t infest. The mattress is also bagged, just in case.
20 March 2006: The war is over. We have replaced all of our furniture except for the couch. I finally have a new bed frame. Katie and Dave finally have a real mattress. Our living room isn’t unlivable, but it sure does feel industrial, to say the least. I’m proud to say that we’ve won. I’m happy to say that we’ve won. But it should be noted that this victory was beyond pyric in nature. It almost wasn’t even worth it. There were times we thought about moving. There were times we just threw our arms up in the air and cried. Our lives are different now, there’s no question. The good news is, we have our health and we have each other. And I am more than proud to be able to say that after a month and a half of laundry, home renovations, lawyers, and landlords, I can stand tall, look others in the eye and say, “Yeah, I lived through that.”