Two mornings ago, I woke up with a few bites in a few places. The most visible collection was on my right arm - a cluster of 3 or 4 bites right where tricep meets armpit. I moaned and groaned and cursed as I showered and got dressed. I could no longer deny that these blood-sucking little bastards had found their way back into my bed.
That night, I worked until 7:30, I got home at 8:30, I cooked dinner and ate, watched a bit of TV, and was thoroughly exhauted when I wandered into my bedroom at 11:00. And I stared at my bed knowing that I will be bitten again. It's an awful sensation, knowing that your place of supposed respite from the noisy chaos of life is providing no respite at all, because as you sleep, tiny things crawl all over your body and eat you. Good luck sleeping with that on your mind!
But I crawled in anyway. I tossed and turned all night. I would wake up suddenly and scratch furiously at my elbow. Or my knee. Or whatever tickled spot I felt at the moment. I twitched and jolted and whimpered through the night. Sleep? What sleep.
So I get up in the morning (yesterday) and do my daily mirror inspection. To my horror, I find that they've bitten me in the same tricep-armpit spot, and now there's a HUGE red cluster of nasty blotches. And there are two other bites on the back of my arm. And two on my knee. And one on my elbow. I KNEW I'd felt them biting my knee when I woke up in the middle of the night - and here is my evidence! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?
I take a shower and cycle through my limited wardrobe (all my clothes are in plastic bags) to find something with long enough sleeves to cover my disgusting red splotchy arm. Not having the right clothes to cover it just depresses me, and I sit on my bed pouting and trying to think of other clothes. I finally dig out a wrinkled mid-sleeve shirt and throw it on. I don't even care anymore.
I trudge through my day at work, totally exhausted from not getting any sleep, and feeling like shit in general for being so itchy (I know carry benedryl anti-itch cream in my purse) and dressing so sloppily. I work late because I arrived late, and get home late, and eat late as a result.
Then, as I march into my bedroom, I realize I cannot make myself get into this bed. I turn to look at what replacement bedding options I have. The last two sets of sheets are in a bag, waiting to be laundered. (I can't do laundry as often as these damn bugs require.) I have nothing else...or so I think. I dig out a box on my closet floor, and find two sets of clean sheets!
I was so exhausted, so emotionally drained, and yet I stood there at 11pm and stripped my bed. I put all the stripped sheets and pillowcases into trash bags and tied them up, air-tight. I put my only light blanket into a trash bag too, as well as the PJs I'd worn the night before. I lifted my expensive-bedbug-proof-covered mattress up and examined it and the boxspring to look for bugs, and saw none. I checked the zippers on the mattress cover, the boxspring cover, and my pillow covers. I put the new sheets on. I pulled the bed away from the wall, put on clean PJs, and fell into bed. I slept fitfully with only a sheet covering me.
This morning, I woke up with no new bites. So I wonder if the little fuckers are in the trash bag with the sheets, or if they're just trying to find their way back to me from the wall.
Either way, I hope I can sleep a little better tonight, just this one night, and avoid being a midnight snack. I'm sure they'll find me again in no time.
Photos taken of the bites before (left) and after (right) my shower.
Updated on 6/29 to add photos (finally).
