Tales of a Bed Bug Refugee

I’m sure you’ve not been wondering where the hell I disappeared to over the past month, as I don’t post often enough to have a readership. Still, there is a very long story behind it that I will go into now.

First a visual aid:

Take a good look at it, people, because you’re going to be hearing a lot more about it before it gets better. It’s called a bed bug, and if you think the Republican invasion of New York was newsworthy, wait until you find out about the other invasion that's going on all over the city in epidemic proportions. Pull up a chair (what are you doing surfing the internet standing?) and heed my tale.

It started in late June. I awoke, not to the usual cooing of pigeons on the fire escape or rumbling of the garbage truck hurling last night’s taco wrappers deep into its bowels, but to the incessant itch of not one, but four welts on my foot. Hmmm, must have been a mosquito. Though the windows are closed. How curious.

Next day, same shit. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain are two words, “bed bugs”. I don’t know why. I must have overheard them on some Fox News promo during the Simpsons. I have no idea what they mean, but I have a sneaking suspicion I should look them up.

I looked them up .
If I have them, I am totally fucked.

They are like impossible to get rid of. They are paper thin and live in the tiny cracks and crevices of your home, especially on or near your bed. They live in baseboards, picture frames, and, of course, box springs and mattresses. They can also lay eggs in your clothes if your clothes are, say, lying in a hamper. It doesn’t matter how neat or dirty you are. You get them from someone else who has them. Either by sitting on their furniture, or by having your suitcase next to theirs on an airplane, or by sitting on a movie theater seat that has them. They feed, of course, on your blood, but they can live up to a year without eating, so there's no going away for the summer to starve them out.

Apparently the reason I’d never heard of anyone having bed bugs before is because they were wiped out in this country around WWII thanks to the widespread use of DDT to kill mosquitoes. With the banning of DDT use in recent years, along with the increase in international travel, (bed bugs have continued to be a problem in other countries all these years, apparently), bed bugs are on the rise. And in New York City, their numbers have reached epidemic proportions.

So what do you do? First, you wash everything you own in hot water, or have it dry- cleaned. This is supposed to kill the eggs. I live in a fourth floor walk up. The laundromat is 3-1/2 blocks away. It is July. This is not fun.

Continue washing everything you use, especially bedding, as often as necessary to keep bugs out of your bed (Daily? Every other day?) I begin washing my bedding every other day. I’m still getting bit.

I call the landlord who agrees to pay for his exterminator to come down and spray the whole place. I call the exterminator who tells me to wash everything I own in hot water and strip the bed so he can spray it. I tell him I did wash everything I own.

“Did you wrap it in plastic before you brought it back from the laundromat and keep it there?”

Shit. I have to wash everything I own all over again. I think I’m starting to lose weight from all this manual labor. I’ve spent about $200 in laundry and dry cleaning and about $100 in clear plastic bags for my clothes in a span of about two weeks.

I wash everything I own and keep it in plastic bags. I strip the bed. The exterminator comes and sprays. He tells us we have to wait 15 days to spray again because that is how long it takes for the eggs that are already laid to hatch. The poison apparently doesn’t kill the eggs. We will continue to get bit, he says. But if a bug runs across this stuff, it will die instantly.

“So, I’m supposed to sleep on a bed sprayed with it?”
“It’s fine. Put a plastic cover on it, if you want.”

The day after he sprays, I come home and proceed to put a plastic cover on the mattress and box spring. As I flip the box spring over, I see my first one. It’s alive and well.

Two weeks later, we’re still getting bit. The exterminator comes back and this time we take EVERYTHING out of every piece of furniture because they really like wood and pretty much all my furniture is wood. We put everything in plastic bags that isn’t furniture. My house looks like a crazy person lives there. From lack of sleep, I’m starting to feel like a crazy person.

We make the exterminator examine every inch of the place. He says he doesn’t see any bugs.

“We’re probably almost there”, he says.

“Really? You think we’ll get rid of them?” I ask.

“Listen,” he says. “If you lived in a house, maybe, but this is New York City. They could have come from a neighbor. They could go to your neighbor’s and hang out until the coast is clear and come back. Insects have been here long before you or I and they’ll be here long after.”

Thanks for the science lesson, asshole. That’s not what I asked you.
No one can seem to tell me how to get rid of these bugs for good.

He sprays everywhere. Even our books, our luggage.

“They love zippers,” he says.

The next night, I go to sleep, hopeful. The next morning, my roommate and I both wake up with bites.

Meanwhile, my partner at work is starting to become a little paranoid, though she doesn’t let on just yet.

Back at the ranch, we decide, fuck this poison shit, we’re going natural. There’s a spray I’ve seen on the internet. It’s made of natural enzymes that break down the bug’s exoskeleton on contact. I order the biggest jug. It arrives on a Friday afternoon—broken and spilled out all over the box. Like the bottle, I am gutted. I look inside, there’s still about a 10th of the bottle left. I pour it into the complimentary spray bottle and guard it with my life.

This spray is so safe, you can wash your sheets and clothes in it. You can even bathe in it. It kills bed bugs, lice, and mites. It sounds perfect. My roommate and I wash everything in it that day. I read on the internet that if you put the legs of your bed in glasses of water, the bugs can’t climb up. I do that and go to bed. I wake up bite free. My roommate does not. This goes on for a week. Me, no bites. Her, lots of bites.

Finally, my partner at work, who knows about everything, breaks down.

“I’m terrified you’re going to give them to me,” she says. Our work calls for us to sit in each other’s offices all day.

“I don’t blame you,” I say. “I can’t promise you I won’t give them to you.”

“I think you should move,” she says.

“I’ve considered that,” I say, “But it would mean leaving everything behind. Otherwise, I’d most likely take them with me.”

“My boyfriend,” (who’s very well off), “will lend you any money you need to move,” she says.

“What?!” I’m humiliated. Not only do I feel like a leper, now they’ve gone and thrown my financial situation into it, too.

“Well, we’re building the new apartment and if we brought those things into it,” she doesn’t have to finish. I understand her concern. It just feels cold and callous.

I go home feeling dejected. The incredible pressure I put on myself to try and keep this situation under control and not spread it to my friends is taking its toll on me. I have been losing sleep due to my anxiety over getting bit coupled with the need to wake up about 6:30 every morning to wash my bedding. I’m ready to throw in the towel. I bring up the possibility of moving to my roommate who is far poorer than I am. She becomes hysterical, crying. She can’t afford it and she refuses to leave all her things behind. I now feel caught between both of their needs. I’ve hardly had time to consider my own.

I call my dad who helps me realize that I can’t let anyone else pressure me into a decision. I have to do what is right for me. I dissect my anger at being pressured into moving from my knowledge that moving would be the best thing to do.

I’m almost one hundred per cent decided when a bed bug runs across the TV table while my roommate and I are watching. The lights are on. The TV is blaring. This is the first time we’ve seen one be so ballsy. It isn’t the last. Five minutes later, another one runs across the TV table convincing my roommate to move, too.

I call the landlord. He agrees to let us out of the lease and give us each a glowing recommendation to any potential new landlords. He will refund our deposit and most of August’s rent. He also agrees to dispose of our stuff for us since we don’t want to put it out on the sidewalk.

The next day, I go out and look for a new apartment. My roommate and I have decided to go our separate ways, partially because she refuses to get rid of a few things. For fear of carrying eggs to my potential new apartment, I go to Old Navy first and pick out some new clothes without trying them on. I am headed to my gym to shower and put the new clothes on, when a broker returns my call. He’s right around the corner and has an apartment to show me. I decide it will be safe not to shower, but simply to change clothes. I go into a nearby Whole Foods and ask for the bathroom. The lady says she must escort me to the bathroom. It’s their policy. She looks at me up and down since I don’t have any groceries, but takes me to the back anyway. She waits outside the door as I change into my new Old Navy jeans and t-shirt. The jeans are way too tight, but I have no choice. Fortunately, the shirt is baggy. I stuff my old clothes in the trash. This will be the first of many that will go in the trash in the coming weeks. I feel like a homeless person or a refugee. I walk out of the bathroom and catch the lady doing a double take as she realizes my clothes are different. She must think I’m homeless.

The six apartments the broker shows me are all shit holes. The foundations are literally slanted. The floors are soggy (?). There are huge leak bubbles in the ceilings. They rent for $1800-$2000 a month. More than double what I was paying when I had a roommate, but I am afraid to have a roommate now. I need to cut down on all the bed bug variables I can.

The day turns out to be one of the hottest of the year. The tight jeans and cheap t-shirt I purchased allow for no breathing. I go to my office at the end of the day with chafing on my thighs. I call my mother and cry for the first time about the whole situation. I bawl like a baby.

I decide to spend the night in a hotel because I can’t face the bed bugs. Not tonight. The cheapest room I can find that still feels “safe” is $200 before taxes. That night I feel awkward as I check in carrying nothing but the plastic bag from Old Navy and one from Popeye’s. Comfort food.

The hotel is completely dead and there’s no one else for the front desk staff to focus on but me.

“Where are you from?” the jovial bellhop asks.

The desk clerk is holding my ID. I can’t lie.

“Here,” I mutter.

“Oh,” the bellhop looks like I just slapped his hand. I feel the need to explain. I start to.

“I just couldn’t stay in my…” I trail off with the sudden realization that they probably think I’m like Julia Roberts in Sleeping with the Enemy, fleeing in the middle of the night with nothing but a few spare things in a plastic bag.

That night I find it hard not to think of the fact that the number one way to pass bed bugs is through international travel. How many foreigners do you think have stayed in the average Manhattan hotel room? I manage to fall asleep and sleep the best sleep I’ve had in weeks. The curtains in the room are heavy and the room is so dark that I don’t even know it’s 9am when I awake to the sound of my cell phone.

“I’m moving back to my parent’s on Long Island,” my roommate’s voice informs me. “I’ll be out of there tonight.”

That’s it. It’s just them and me. Alone in that godforsaken apartment.
I can’t do it. I decide I will never sleep there again and I will never wear any of my old clothes again. This is the beginning of my life as a bed bug refugee.

That day I go to work like everything is normal, but I sneak out to spend the day apartment hunting—to no avail. That night, I call two of my oldest friends who live in the city to see if I can crash with them. The hotels in the city are just too expensive to keep up for more than one night. One of my friends tells me he’d be glad to put me up, just not now. He’s expecting weekend guests. (It’s Thursday). He’ll gladly put me up Sunday night, but then, only for a day or so. His boyfriend has a deadline and needs quiet in the apartment. My other old friend who knew nothing about the whole bed bug thing calls me back and says he is afraid to put me up. He doesn’t know enough about the bugs and feels worried that I’ll bring them to his home. I fight back the urge to cry or get angry with him. How can I blame him? He’s absolutely right and I’d feel the same way. I tell him not to worry about it.

I stand on a street corner, holding my cell phone, mentally going down the list of friends who don’t have cats. (I am deathly allergic.) I can’t believe I’m actually without a place to sleep. I feel like a leper.

I know who to call. My good friend from work, Ben.

“Ben, I’ve decided never to sleep in my place again. I’ll understand if you don’t want to put me up, but I assure you I’ve taken every precaution. All my clothes are new. I’ve thrown out my old bag.”

“Sure. Just be careful,” he says.

Ben, have I told you lately that I love you?

The following week gets better. I buy pants that fit. The weather cools off. And I find a kick ass apartment in the neighborhood I’ve always wanted to live in—the East Village. I also, (and this is for another post), managed to have a job interview and get a new job during this whole drama. So, I am able to move into a sizable apartment in the East Village thanks to the salary boost. The last day of my old job, Ben and I go see Willie Nelson and Bob Dylan in concert in a minor league baseball park in Fishkill. On that same day, my old landlord sends some men with a dump truck to our old apartment to dispose of all my earthly possessions. As the sun sets over the concert, Willie sings “Living in the Promised Land” and I identify with the refugees in the song more than I could have ever imagined.

I plan my new job start date far enough away so that I can go home to my parents in Texas for a week of much needed r and r, simultaneously alleviating Ben from his lifesaving duties. I return on the 21st of August to my new apartment, which is completely empty. Moving in consists of simply walking in the door with the (new) clothes on my back.

I start my new job on the 23rd and spend the first week going back and forth between work, the new apartment, and Bed, Bath and Beyond. I have only three shirts to wear to work. Out of fear of carrying luggage on the plane from Texas, I bought only enough clothes as I could fit in a small duffle bag, which I kept on my lap. On the 29th, while liberals march through Chelsea with anti-Bush signs, I run from Rockaway Bedding to Jensen Lewis to find a platform bed made of steel. I tell the saleslady at Rockaway that I am glad I found a steel bed.

"Bed bugs?" she asks. She knows.

It arrives tomorrow between 8 and 12. In the meantime, I am sleeping on an air mattress on the floor.

At the end of my first week back, I make one final trip to the old building to pick up the cable boxes I’d left in such a hurry. It turns out the cable company will charge me $200 a box if I don't turn them in. I wear one of my parent's old t-shirts which I brought with me from Texas especially for this day. I wear some new Addidas shorts, which I am sad to part with. I meet the landlord there. He gives me the boxes. I turn in my keys. I go to the cable office in my t-shirt and shorts and turn in the boxes. I go to my gym, throw away my t-shirt and shorts, shower, and put on one of my work outfits and go to work. I can't believe I never have to set foot in that place again.

The next day is my birthday. It feels more like a rebirth day.

“I’m starting over in a new apartment, with a new job, with nothing,” I tell my friend Margaret, an immigrant from cold-war Poland, herself.

“Like a baby,” she smiles at me.

Yes. Like a newborn baby.

Comments

[Rebecca]

Dude! I give you the most sympathy!!!! My Boyfriend and I have just moved into this apt. in Brooklyn in June. I started to see these tick like creatures in the bath room and didn't think more then it was really wierd to have ticks in Brooklyn. I then in the next few months started to get literally eaten alive. I though the same thing that they were just mosquito bites. But it started to get bad. I went to the demo. and he gave me some steriod...didn't work. I then went to another about a month later because I just couldn't take the pain anymore. He did a skin biospy. However, he told me to check my house for bugs. I did and no shit...I found a entire working coloney. Oh did I mention that these bugs even though they were sleeping on the boyfriends side, not once did they bite him..so for the past week we have desperately been trying to get rid of these things. We have thrown out the bed, head board, pillows and blankets. We have bought cans of RAID..we sprayed everywhere...wouldn't you know...we found some in the bed room again..were we sprayed...tonight. So I was wondering how the fuck do we get rid of these things...I need to sleep!!!!! If you have any insight please send it our way.

[sabrina]

Gosh i sympathize with you all, my dad and sister had bed bugs bad too, but thankfully the landlord did have it sprayed several times and that got rid of most of them i think ? i also noticed one tick looking bug in my apt in the bathroom and i caught it and killed it and i noticed just one in my bed but dead last night i am so freaked out and worried about this i have terrible allergies and can not handle sprays or powders now what ? i heard that lavender oil from like the bath and body shop $10.00, helps ? i guess that you drop some of the oil all over the bed ? i just got my bed too 500 and something for it, last year .. it is the best queen i have ever had too, so sad. well maybe that there was only just those two, where did they come from ? sadly dont have a clue.. oh God please help me with this :( well try the lavender oil's i guess .. no bites yet..

[abigfatwasteoftime]

Wow. I sympathize with both of you guys. I can't tell you how to get rid of them for good, obviously, or I would have done it myself in my apartment. I do know one woman who claims to know someone in Brooklyn who got rid of them. She purchased her own professional strength poison and sprayed her own home. I DO NOT RECOMMEND DOING THAT. Poison is best left to the professionals. I doubt Raid is going to help you, though, if the pros couldn't get rid of them in my apartment with their full strength stuff. Granted, I only went through two sprayings before I gave up. Rebecca, as for why your boyfriend "never got bit", I have read that a percentage of people do not have an allergic reaction to bug bites. That's what the itchy welts are--an allergic reaction to the saliva of the bug. Most likely your boyfriend is getting bit, it just isn't making him break out into itchy red welts.

[Mike]

Yikes! I got em' too. Woodside, Queens here. I not sure, but they could have come in on a piece of used furniture, a set of dresser drawers, I bought from the Salvation Army over the summer. Or maybe the guy who lives downstairs who has a new roomate every week. God only knows for sure. I called the exterminators and they're very sympathetic, but they can't do anything until they have my landlords permission, since I'm just a renter. So now the landlord knows. They said no one else in the building has complained. Not yet at least. Got a Miele vacuum cleaner, since they're supposed to be the best. They have disposable bags, not just a canister to empty, which can make more of a mess. I started washing alll my clothing and keep them in plastic bags, but I still have to wash the clothes in my dresser draws (which there is a lot of) and stuff in the drawers of my Queen size captains bed. I haven't moved the bed away from the wall yet, partly because I'm afraid of what I'll find. I saw Fear Factor this evening on TV, and I can really relate to it! Can't wait for the extermintors to get here and give me their assesment of the situation. I'm ready to rip out the ugly wall to wall carpeting that was here when I moved in five years ago. I got alot of stuff. Books, clothing, video tapes, DVD's. I don't like to be weighted down materially, but on the other hand, I do use everthing I have at one time or another, so do I really have to get rid of everything? I really like this apartment and moving right now is not an option. Financially or otherwise. Took me so long to get settled and fix up the place nice, so I am ready to dig in my heels and declare war on bedbugs. My bedroom is quarrantined now and I am sleeping in my other room in a sleeping bag. Actually, it's quite comfortable. To be continued...

[Buggy in Vancouver]

This is the nightmare. Ongoing. Endless. 80 large garbage bags of laundry and stuff that we just know we can never trust again. Furniture, stuffed animals, clothing, linen, towels. Gone. We spent a good $200 on laundry and drying alone. So far, the bill is in excess of $700 (not including the loss of a queen size sheep bed rug and god only knows what else was on my bed on the moment of "discovery"). Management tried to "blame" us for the infestation. Said our furniture was "old" (no it just looks "old" and we paid $1000 for each peice two years ago and I advised him "I have the receipts").

It started in August 2004. My 20 year old daughter complained of "bites". Mosquitoes no doubt. Summer time. She continued to complain. I started to crawl around on all fours looking for spiders. I captured a bug, put it in a jar, took it to my landlord and he told me "baby ladybug". HA!! Life rolled on. Then I got sick and had to spend two weeks in bed. Agony. My neck swelled, I could not sleep. They thought I had a "reaction" to the antibiotics I was on. I lay awake night and day with ice packs on my neck. Finally I crawled out of my bed, went to a local clinic where I was diagnosed with "scabies". $60 worth of scabie ointment later, 20 loads of laundry, scalding hot showers for all, a sense of revulsion, but manageable. What we could not wash (such as watches, etc) we put in the freezer. We thought, wrongly, "it's over". I returned to work. A nervous mess. But Victorious. Wrong. More bites. I finally get to see my own doctor in his office. He says, "this is not scabies. Whose bed have you been sleeping in?". "Mine," I said. I went home, somewhat puzzled by his comments, took the time and looked up "bed bugs" and voila!! we had 'em. Absolutley everything on my bed was rolled into a shower curtain and thrown out. We worked night and day doing laundry. The fumigators came in, the cats went to Cat Hotel ($$$$$). Meanwhile I was telling my co-workers "we have a flood in the apartment" (trying to justify the many secretive telephone calls that I needed to do to facilitate "the plumbers"). My daughter works in a very pleasant and quite public job and is "Miss neat and clean". She bore up well. I less so. Piles of black plastic garbage bags lined our hallways. I vacuumed the beds, put vaseline on the legs of the beds (they say this helps), doused myself and the bed with insecticides. And moved to the couch. My room is a bedbug masoluem now. We keep the windows open 24/7 hoping for freezing cold weather. We will never turn the heat on.

My daughter took this one step forward and told her live-in boyfriend to move and move NOW. He was not uncooperative and left by saying indignantly, "I will never sleep in this house again". Turns out that the boyfriend was quite likely the original source. He started a new job in late July at a large industrial laundry facility (read that as big laundrymat for hotels, both rich and poor; hospitals; nursing homes; and other facilities that use "linen". The workers are not provided with showers on site. Bingo. He is moving into a nice new apartment November 1. I calmly told him he needed to seriously consider getting a new job. He was insulted.

Beside my new patent leather pumps (never worn) and just below my 15 work suits and oh-so nice turtle neck sweaters, is a cannister of Creepy Crawler (get some).

I was living on 3 - 4 hours of sleep for about 6 weeks. My body became my enemy. Still is. I now spend my spare time at home armed with my Mag flashlight peering into crevices, scrutinzing seams on futons. I have a new job now (god forbid my last one is infected - read that as possible). I told my doctor, "what if I have taken this to work??? !!!". He said, verbatim, "let the lawyers scratch!". This is something I would not wish on my worst enemy.

My daughter and I both live on the couches in our living room. We are waiting for "the boyfriend" to remove his property (we are doing the countdown). We steam cleaned the bathroom, threw away the shower curtains, bought new ones. We will never purchase patterned bed sheets again. White only. This is one way to more easily see the tell-tale signs of bedbug infestations. We live in a state of seige.

I watched a documentary on starvation in Ethiopia. The principle of the film was a well-fed British journalist who agreed to spend a month "with the people". The camera men ate separately from him during his "trial". After a few days in a new encampment, the Brit met "the bed bugs". He looked just like me. Frantic. Freaking out. Ran to the river and scrubbed his body then wrapped himself in a white sheet and looked miserable. I laughed until the tears ran down my cheeks. When company came over that night, to my daughter's horror, I had to tell them about this story. She understood. The company thought I was "just eccentric" (actually I am going through a nervous breakdown).

So, new job on Monday. Cool. One that is shall we say .. responsible. Fresh start. Better money. GREAT JOB!

Last night my daughter said, "Mommy, I have more bites".

[Buggy in Vancouver]

So, I begin the laundry detail, again. Fumigators coming in again. More Glad bags lined up in the hallway. But be damned if we can actually find any signs of these freaking bugs. To say that our nerves are frayed is an understatement. My 20 year old daughter broke down in tears for several hours last night, interspersed by having two scalding hot showers. My once prized hand loomed Persian rug is slated for "storage". I am going to douse it in chemicals, roll it up and forget about it for a few years. As to our overstuffed couches - don't know yet. My daughter is sleeping on the couch that I slept on hoping she won't be bitten. I slept on "her" couch last night with fresh linen.

This is how these bites manifested themselves: a series of cluster bites around the waist, lower back, the ankles, the neck and even the face (no wonder the clinic doctor originally diagnosed me with "scabies" as there are some similiarities). In my case, I am hyperallergic (armed with the EpiPen because I am prone to anaphylactic (whatever) shock). Being bed ridden (and unknown to me riddled with bedbugs during my convalescence) I was a sitting duck for blood feeders. My own reaction to these bites was extreme. Other people may present no obvious symptoms. Anxiety, insomnia, restlessness are not unusual for the victims of these blood sucking bugs. Tempers fray easily in our home right now. Feelings are easily hurt. Oh, did I mention "paranoia" ?? My new job requires that I take public transportation in and out of an area heavily populated by "poultry workers" (who are not unknown to carry other nasty varieties of "the bed bug").

The first most important criteria in dealing with these blood suckers, is the proper identification of them. Batbugs need to be chemically treated differently than bedbugs. Batbugs are spread by, yes, bats, and birds, and nests that might be disturbed (such as in ventilation ducts, elevator shafts, etc). An experienced fumigator needs to define what the insect is before it can be treated. Repeat treatments are usually required. Remove clutter. Vacuum frequently, and yes dispose of the bags immediately. Vacuum the mattress, under, sideways, upside down. Use a mattress cover (white) or throw the mattress out. Learn absolutely everything there is to know about bedbugs, lots of stuff on the net. Caulk cracks in cupboards / closets. Invest, as our fearful "leader" did, in a metal frame bed. Keep bed linen OFF the floor, move bed and other furniture away from walls. Leave it that way - yes, forever. No more leaning up against the wall with the remotes. Vacuum everything frequently.

Just because I can I threw away a bag of clothing this morning. Not my favorite stuff, but just stuff. More to go. Reduce reduce reduce. What can't be bagged, frozen, boiled, or dry cleaned, suspect. Add Borateam to your shopping list along with hand-pump and spray action "Creepy Crawler". Wash the floors routinely. Not once a month, but weekly. Use bleach. Vacuum baseboards, couches, shelves, clocks .. this is war.

Get deep into those drawers. They are there. Consider purchasing all metal furniture (Ikea has some). Wash all drapery. Live a life of zen.

Oh yes, if you don't have one .. rent one, buy one .. a small steam cleaner. It is invaluable.

And hope.

[abigfatwasteoftime]

Wow. I've been away for a while and just read all the new comments. They bring back horrible memories. I am so glad I was able to pick up and move, but I worry that I will run up against those little @$%&ers again. Thanks to everyone who is posting because it reassures me that I was not crazy and that I did make the right choice by getting out of the situation. And hopefully, your information will help someone else who is going through this horrible nightmare. For those of you determined to stay and fight, I wish you strength and good fortune. Your experiences will help future bed bug sufferers as I'm sure this epidemic will get worse before it gets better.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

Thank you for the opportunity to post my own experience on this nasty matter. One can feel very isolated and alone going through this experience plus a little "mad". Reading the vast array of information on the topic is helpful and informative, but getting an inside view on another person's experiences and feelings is very helpful. Every year we send my Mother, in the middle of Canada, a Holiday package of chocolates and small gifts. She has asked us NOT to send any gifts this year because she remembers 65 years ago when her father destroyed a couch with an axe, then burned in, because it was infested with bedbugs after a travelling relative slept on it. To this day she can clearly recall the details of that couch ~ " . . . brown leather with tassles and it pulled out to be a bed .. " She was 10 years old. Her baby brother wakened the family screaming. Grandma went to calm her screaming baby and to her horror found bedbugs in his diaper. Grandpa took care of the rest. Mysteriously the family home burned down a few years later. Family members still tell how "calm" Grandpa was. He just watched the fire, moved the family into the barn and built a new home a year later. One has to wonder if he lost the battle with the bedbugs. Perhaps a bit extreme thinking, but - I'd do it if I had to.

We are on the eve of our 4th fumigation.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

Fumigators are not the most social workers. My daughter, in Command of the 4th Fumigation (this might serve her well for future Assaults) asked the "terminators" (as she politely calls them), "How long is this going to take today?". Buddy says, "The sooner you leave, the sooner we get it done, come back in 6 hours." Not to be outdone by the Professionals, she sprayed the insides of all the closets with Eau de Pesticide last night. Overkill? We hope. Then she tied the hallway doors closed with two large hockey skate laces because we have clever cats who can open doors. This morning as I raced to the bathroom, I bounced off the ropes. I have a new office, yes with my name on it. I am paranoid when people sit on my chairs. I am sure I reek of chemicals. I have moved the furniture. The three extra chairs are in a corner. I am using a steno chair instead of my nice executive chair to reduce the opportunity for infestations. The exec chair sits in a corner guarded by two smaller chairs. People stand in my office. I am living in a home surrounded by garbage bags and my office is a sterile cell. Our clothes are in opaque garment bags (Ikea, get some). I can't remember what I own or where things are. I bagged a pair of loafers (freshly sprayed) took them to the office where they stay. I wear gumboots for the commute and a slick rain coat because I am being transported long distances on commuter buses loaded with poultry workers. I cut my waist length hair off to shoulder length. Why, one might ask, so extreme? Because I was sitting in my last office a month ago when I felt a "bite" (keep in mind I have extreme reaction to these things). I raced to the bathroom and to my horror found a bloated bloodied bug on the inside of the beautiful sweater I was wearing. I almost lost it at the point. Maybe I did lose it. The demands of my work do not allow me to "take off" for a day or even an hour. Where had that sweater been? Serenely folded in a hanging closet unit. Brand new.

Yesterday a very beautiful co-worker, dressed to the hilt, came into my office to go over a few things. "Wouldn't it be more comfortable to sit on the chairs?". I looked at the fantastic sweater she was wearing, a lovely fluffy thing, and abruptly said, "no". I really wanted this job. It was on my "dream list".

The Landlord greeted me when I returned home yesterday. "I hope things will be better now." I can only hope. Because my next step is going to be this: things will go into cold storage for 18 months. We will move into a bachelor apartment with air mattresses and two years from now I will be wearing all those suits and sweaters again. Until then, I can only hope.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

We are not nearing normalacy. We continue to live in the living room, our bedrooms used as storage for the sealed black garbage bags holding linen, clothing, whatever. We don't even know what might be in the bags. No more bites and no signs of the %&*^&*^ things. I continue to put small items in the freezer when I return from work (via the poulty worker laden bus); gloves, scarves, tote bag. And no I don't think I am being "extreme". I continue to experience insomnia, something I have never had in my life, sleep being my ultimate refuge and pleasure. Once taken for granted. In fact, this has been a life altering experience no matter how I look at it, from the small and insignificant to the critical.

We are finding moments of dark (desperate) humour. Flipping through a catelogue my daughter says with glee, "Mommy, here's a metal frame bed!!". "And look at this, Mom, bug netting for beds". My hand crafted honey wood bed frame is slated for the trash bin, along with just about everything else we own. I just don't trust the things I live with anymore.

To our horror, we saw a mattress and box spring in the apartment dumpster the other day. We are not alone.

Just to show you how nasty these &*^%&() things are, during fumigation #1, I personally sprayed (read that as soaked) three framed wall mirrors. During the 2nd fumigation, sure enough, the fumigators found a live *&^(*&* on one of those mirrors.

This is what I want now. A concrete apartment, no gyprock, no wood (ever), no cupboards of any sort, no closets. I viewed such a loft a few years ago, regretably I did not buy it. The design idea was to build in it. I personally would leave it as is.

Fingers crossed in Vancouver.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

Like clockwork - they're "back". Exactly two weeks after the 4th fumigation, one bite at about midnight last night and the hallways are lined with bags of linens - again, which proves the information provided by the health department is right - the problem is cyclical. Chemicals may kill the "living" bugs, but they certainly don't kill the "eggs" and the eggs can sit dormant for as long as a year even under challenging circumstances. My warm body provided the optimum moment. I found the *&%$##$ thing - very very small, like a small dark brown dot, but squash it and voila - MY blood.

We stripped my daughter's bedroom to the walls, painted it, removed all furniture (what was left after the purge), washed all clothing and the drapes, scraped the hardwood floors and were planning to move a futon into her room tonight so she could get back to the art of living. I moved into my sterile bedroom only two nights ago. I am back on the couch after a scalding midnight shower. The room is sealed again.

At about 2 am I started to laugh. From her couch my daughter said, "mom are you laughing?". "Yes, hysterically."

Tonight we begin to cull what property and clothing we have left. I am wearing a track suit to work today. I reek of Creepy Crawler. My thoughts are consumed by bed bugs. I need therapy.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

You weren't crazy. You were smart. Don't even look back except in horror.

http://www.firstcoastnews.com/news/local/news-article.aspx?storyid=8874

[rachael]

I bought 2 cans af flea and tick killer,my bed has been coated for 24 hours and still the little $%$%^(*&Q are alive.I looked down to see a large one walking along, I shot it with a home sprey of clorox and dish soap.It's butt pointed upwords,it's death pose.Do the live in carpet?there's another one BAM!!!!and a baby!!!!!

[Buggy in Vancouver]

Welcome Rachel to the ever growing population of bedbug victims. Tick spray won't do it unless you have ticks and fleas. And if you do, then yes, they live in carpets just as easily as bedbugs. I have been following up similar threads in Canada where bedbugs are just beginning to develope. To be "bed bug free for over one year" seems to be the benchmark for success in eradicating these insects. No matter what methods are tried (from expensive fumigations, to homemade concoctions with strong bleach in them), one of the recurring themes is perseverance. Just about everyone I have "read" or spoken with on the net confirm that they have had to "get rid" of property, starting with their beds. While some "experts" say it might not be necessary, it's probably wise to get rid of your mattress and box spring and consider, as our fearful leader of this blog did, replacing the bed with a metal frame bed at some point. Extreme house cleaning plays an important role in the control of bedbug infestations, but it is not the sole solution. It merely reduces some of the opportunity for the *&(&**(& to infest. Learn everything you can about these little blood sucking thugs. Our fearful leader (host of this blog) posted a most excellent URL .. "everything you wanted to know about bedbugs but had no idea they even existed". Learn everything you can about bedbugs. Become an expert. I continue to promote a product called Creepy Crawly from Green Cross pesticides in Canada. It's my only hope as an individual, along with professional fumigations, endless laundry / dry cleaning, tiresome house cleaning, discarding of clothing and household property (yes, even including beloved books).

The commonality we know is this: bedbugs are very very VERY hard to get rid of. There is nothing good to be said about this "experience". I continue to remind myself that "what does not kill me, makes me stronger". But in my case, death by bedbug is a possibility and not unknown (as a few 5 star hotels have discovered by way of litigation when a guest dies from the bite of these (*Y*(&)(&(* things). But that's just me and a handful of individuals who have extreme allergic reactions to "things". Revulsion is another common factor. It's really hard to live with bedbugs. It is just so disgusting and does nothing to foster "self esteem". Get some professional help from your local Public Health authority (PH nurses can be great); get your landlord to fumigate - do all the right things and when all else fails, abandon ship and write it all off as a learning experience and yet another opportunity to Zen your life. Good luck rachel. You are not alone (literally).

[Still Buggy in Vancouver]

Just a refresher course is WHAT is the enemy. This is an excellent site. Everything you need to know, almost.

http://www.uky.edu/Agriculture/Entomology/entfacts/struct/ef636.htm

I hate to admit this, but as I was sitting at my PC on Friday, I noted a small welt on my forhead, then the lid on my right eye swelled up. Quite quickly actually. At first I thought there was hair on my head, sudden itch .. I brushed my hand over my face and when I went to the bathroom to take a look, to my horror, I had squashed one of these @#$#*(& on my face. They are getting desperate. My cane chairs are now on the balcony, along with the bamboo ones we put out there a month ago. I am loathe to throw them out because I would have to transport them through my building, thus increasing infestations. I am considering calling the Salvation Army to assist me with the removal of furniture. I am sure the SA has been through this a few times (since their hostels are continually infested).

I have worn the same "outfits" to work for the last monoth. I launder what I wear every night. We come home, shower, launder, camp in the living room, sleep (sort of), get up, shower, launder the bedding, dress, go to work, come home ....

[metta]

Does anyone actually have a picture of these bites? I have a few bites and have checked my mattress and everywhere else you've told me of -- nothing. I'm having the carpet cleaned today and getting a new mattress. I already have a metal bed frame. Do I have bed bugs?

[Buggy in Vancouver]

The bites frequently appear in clutches, two or three slightly raised white welts. If they don't get worse, and they can in some people, they will slowly disappear leaving slightly dark dots longer than what you would experience with a mosquito bite (for example). They can present at the wrists, the waist, the back, the neck, the shoulders, the feet, the ankles, the hands .. areas of convenience for them. These pests go thru' 5 molts or changes. From the almost invisible (like a speck of dust) to the disgusting adult creatures they are. Each phase requires (preferably but not only) human blood (they will go for your pets if they are desperate) in order to move to the next phase. So you can be "bitten" by a thing as small as a particle of dust and not "see it". This creature then finds a place to rest .. and grow .. etc. I found one less than the size of a pinhead only because it was slighly bloated with MY blood after it feasted on my blood and the ONLY reason I found it was because I LOOK (believe me) and I had pastel green sheets on the bed. If I had not known what I was looking for, I would have simply thought it just a speck of dust. Once you get your new mattress, just to be on the safe side, rub vaseline on your metal bed frame legs and keep your bedding off the floor and your bed away from the walls / curtains. Make your bed "an island". If you continue to get bites, keep looking for the source. Who knows if you have bed bugs. I never saw one until it was too late. Most doctors have no idea WHAT a bedbug looks like and can misdiagnos it as "scabies" or other problems. This is not unusual. The stories are growing legion now. Folks have gone to costly dermatologists, purchased expensive creams, etc. long before they realize they are dealing with the bloodthug, the bedbug.

Along with the new mattress, make sure that ALL your bedding is washed in HOT water. Also, in case you can not WASH your duvet / pillows, at the least (if not dry clean) put them in a VERY hot dryer for about 45 minutes. That should do it. Be paranoid. Launder everything. Wash your drapes. Vacuum your BED. Discard the bag. Live in a state of alert for a few months, see what happens. If nothing, you win. If bedbugs - you lose.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

I feel kinda bad about taking up so much of this fearful blogger's blog so I started my own on, yup, you guessed it - the bloodthug. If you wish, join me in my misery at http://damascus48.blogspot.com/ I will continue to pop in here but I will have mercy on our leader who may by now be BUG FREE !!!

[abigfatwasteoftime]

Vancouver--that's cool that you're starting your own site. I will go check it out. Good luck with the little buggers. Metta--I don't have any pictures of bites, but I think what I noticed about them is that they don't seem to have a point like mosquito bites often do and they often are long and vertical and most obvious of all is that they itch like crazy all day every day until they go away weeks later. They itch far more than mosquito bites.

[abigfatwasteoftime]

Vancouver--that's cool that you're starting your own site. I will go check it out. Good luck with the little buggers. Metta--I don't have any pictures of bites, but I think what I noticed about them is that they don't seem to have a point like mosquito bites often do and they often are long and vertical and most obvious of all is that they itch like crazy all day every day until they go away weeks later. They itch far more than mosquito bites.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

We are going to have to lose just about everything we own. And that's the bottom line. We might be able to salvage some things, put them into "storage" for 18 months, but overall, we will be leaving this apartment with the clothes on our backs and nothing else. I am trying to envision what the next landlord will think .. they have nothing but 3 cats.

[abigfatwasteoftime]

Wow Vancouver. I'm so sorry to hear that you lost everything. I can certainly sympathize. You're the third person I know of who decided to walk away from everything. Not counting myself. I guess that makes four. People still imply that I overreacted. Just the other day, a member of my family said, "You didn't LOSE everything, you walked away from it." And it pissed me off because I wouldn't have walked away from everything if I hadn't been pushed to that point. And God knows I didn't choose to contract a bed bug infestation in my apartment. I don't think anyone can understand what it's like unless they go through it. I wish you much happiness and a bed bug free status in your new home.

[Buggy in Vancouver]

Yuppers, we are still "in" our apartment. It is "vacant". Some clothing in garment bags but our "home" is just a shell.

What annoys me is that people tend to "blame" us for this mess. My landlord (now gone) tried to put the blame on me; my mother does a "tut tut" as if in some way this was my fault.

This experience has wiped me out. The costs, the losses, the DISGUST and revulsion of it all has taken a huge toll on me. It will take me one year to "recover".

I am not yet able to move because (a) I am afraid of ANY possibility of taking "eggs" with me (as you know they can lay dormant for LONG period of time) and (b) I don't have any money now because this thing has turned my life upside down and inside out. A total piss off.

Soooo, I am starting from scratch, with less than nothing. Not a good place to be.

Thanx for your good wishes. This is an experience I will NEVER forget.

[No longer Buggy]

Hey, missed you. Update. After spending thousands of dollars in our fight against the dreaded bed bug, after losing more than 3/4 of our personal property, including the beds, after going nuts a few hundred times a day for about 4 months, we might be bedbug free. I am not holding my breath because the hallmark is one year bed bug free, even 15 months because the insidious little bastards can endure damn near everything for extended periods of time. I do not fully trust the situation yet. We did not abandon ship. Our ship is empty and we live in a barren apartment now. There are still about 5 large black garbage bags stuffed with clean laundry that no one wants to deal with. I don't even know what might be in those bags. I might just trash them. I do know this: when we move, we will take very little with us just on the off chance that we take these freaking bugs with us that have defied massive chemical attacks. The fumigators doubled their chemical dosage during the last fumigation. Our once lovely hardwood floors still show the chemical stains. We do not "wash" it away, rather just push it around "just in case".

Our last fumigation was on December 14, 2004. Since then, no bites, found a few corpses. So we are two months free of this pestilence. We do not have visitors to our apartment. Our famous Sunday dinners are on hold. My family (in particular my mother) thinks I "over reacted". In fact, she seems to "blame" me for this mess. It all pisses me off. If a person has NOT been infested by these little bastards, they are incapable of understanding the impact it does have on the "infected". Mom has the "holier than thou" attitude even though her own father went nuts on the bedugs during the depression.

I have the occasional "moment". A small itch on my body and I go into "I have the bedbug feeling". It continues to be unsettling. I continue to distrust my environment and I see almost everything in terms of bedbugs (if I see a movie with metal beds .. I go "aha!! they KNOW")

This continues to be an experience I will not forget.

[abigfatwasteoftime]

Hi, (No Longer) Buggy. I'm so glad to hear that they've regressed. At the very least, you're getting some sleep, huh? Probably a good idea to get out if you can. Who wants to live with all that poison soaked into the floor? That's why I left, because I was only renting and it wasn't worth it to me to stay and fight. Not when fighting means a year of fumigation and exposure to chemicals. Your mom is wack for not being more supportive. I'm sorry to hear it. But, rest assured, you've got a sympathetic reader here. I think you're incredibly iron willed to have stayed as long as you did.