You may think that getting rid of bed bugs is simple. If you truly believe this, then you’ve never actually dealt with bed bugs. It’s not a matter of getting rid of them –it’s a matter of survival.
Thus, I offer you this: the 7 stages of surviving a bed bug invasion.
Phase 1: Blissful ignorance
My husband and I were in one of those awkward mid-move situations that I hope you’ve never experienced: our lease ran out at our apartment, but he was still in school for another three months and his job offer was across the country. We didn’t have a lot of options as to where to live until the big move.
Because I’m… inventive… I convinced him that we should stay in an extended stay hotel.
If faced with such a decision, do not do this.
Aside from being schooled on how apathetic a hotel management team can really be, I was not aware that to get through my stay I’d need low expectations and a lot of soap. After only 2 of the 3 months had passed, I was nearly wrapped in a strait jacket and escorted safely away. It wasn’t because of the 12% “luxury tax” that paid for the strange smell on the chairs. It wasn’t even their painfully slow internet connection, which I was sure at first would drive me to break things.
No. If you’ve read the title, I’m pretty sure by now you’ve guessed that it was the bed bugs. Surprise!
Freaking bed bugs.
Phase 2: Ignore early warning signs
I noticed the first bite about a month into our stay, just after we got our first change of sheets. Maybe the new sheets were a Trojan Horse to these demons. Maybe they were lying in wait so that they could file a joint attack on us once we had settled in. Maybe they were busy sperm-punching their females , as Jonathan Wojcik of Cracked.com mentioned they tend to do. I dunno. I’m not sure what bed bugs do in their nocturnal free time.
Whatever the reason they laid dormant, the first set of bites from their sudden uprising took advantage of my sexy, sexy shins. However, it wasn’t until the following night that I actually saw a little white thing moving on the pillow. I didn’t know what it was, but considering that I was in a bed and this was a bug, I had a guess.
I promptly flicked it onto the bedside table and squished it. I googled bed bugs, as I was 83% sure they were supposed to be red and therefore I was confused.
Its legs squirmed on the table and it hopped back onto its feet. But…how? I’d just killed the damn thing.
I squished it again and went back to my research. I found a picture of a very little, very white baby bed bug. In my periphery, the little bug’s tiny legs squirmed harder from where it now lay on its back.
These things don’t die!
Phase 3: Research until even the word “bug” creeps you out
Here’s a really informative news report from ABC Nightline just to freak you out.
You’ll find out that this is actually an increasingly common thing. In fact, bed bug lawsuits are becoming increasingly popular, and thus you might run into issues with management when you report them. As in, they call the infestation “alleged.” More on that later.
Are you thoroughly wigged out yet? Good. Before you go traveling, check your hotel on the Bed Bug Registry. No, they’re not getting married and you can’t just regift the picture frame from your birthday. This registry is a database of customer-reported bed bug sightings. This is a ratings site with the date and a comment, similar to TripAdvisor, except that instead of stars, you’re giving it a “f***cking gross” rating.
And look! A list of bed bug reports on cruise ships is coming soon. Don’t you feel snuggly? Sleep tight.
Bed bugs are so rampant for many reasons: they can last up to a year without eating; they can hide pretty much anywhere; and only incredibly high heat is a guaranteed way to kill them.
What’s more is that people feel dirty if they confess that they’ve had an infestation. Listen to me – “confess,” like it’s a crime. Don’t feel dirty. Violated, maybe, but not dirty. Get it taken care of, or it will spread to others. Bed bugs are easy to pick up and hard to kill.
I mean, Abercrombie & Fitch and Victoria’s Secret stores had infestations in New York! The infestation doesn’t say anything about you as a person, but how you handle it does.
Phase 4: Feel bugs on you when they’re not there…and try to stay sane
After murdering the bug, I had a week of silence and only one or two bites.
They must’ve been in mourning.
Things weren’t so bad, then, so I tried not to think about it. If you had to choose between sleep and staying up for days in fear of being overrun with tiny, biting parasites because you don’t have anywhere else to go, well, you’re going to choose sleep.
Wow. That sounds so much less convincing when I actually string the words together. It made sense then, though.
After a blissful week, I was lying on the bed reading a book when I saw a full grown bed bug crawl beneath my elbow like it was trying to hug me. Or taunt me. Not sure. These things are bigger than you think.
I squished it four times before the demon spawn finally died, and then I flushed it down the toilet without thinking twice. I didn’t want the little zombie bug to rise from the dead again and eat me.
…..If anyone is decent with Photoshop, that image is yours. Free! You’re welcome.
That’s when I figured that we should leave. At this point, my husband hadn’t seen any of the bugs and was probably wondering why I slept with a plastic spoon (for smooshing) beneath my pillow.
I tried to be rational. This extended stay didn’t have a refund policy – they keep everything even if you leave early. As I was poor, I tried to chill out and just sleep.
I had just flushed my evidence down the toilet, after all, and I doubted that the same people who threw sheets on my bed in a “you f***ing do it” attitude would jump on my eye-witness testimony and give me my money back. Also, there was still the problem of being homeless.
…No. Screw it. I hurled my pillow against the wall for no reason. I wanted out.
Phase 5: Admit defeat. Devise retreat plan
The next day, I told a friend our story. He offered to let us stay in his spare room once our time was up at the hotel. Rejoice, yon vixens! An escape! For three more blissful days, there was nothing.
Then suddenly, bed bugs.
Everywhere.
Sweet dreams!It’s 3 A.M. I’m sitting on the bed, developing the plot twists for my next great American epic whilst lounging on the luxurious full sized mattress-only bed. Something moves on the blanket next to me. I casually (read: frantically) glance over to the expensive down comforter we got as a wedding gift. I watch the area, still and quiet. My heartbeat thuds in my ears. It moves again.
They’re back.
Phase 6: Go Bat-Shit Insane
But AHA! I won’t be had this time! Now I have evidence! Mwuahahahahaha!
“I’m not crazy,” I mutter to the empty room as I cackle fitfully and run over to the pathetic excuse of a kitchenette.
I grab a Turkey Hill Tupperware container and scoop the little…thing… inside with my plastic smooshing spoon.
Success! I have a live bug in custody and I will certainly get my refund now. I win, right? It’s a happy ending.
Suddenly inspired as to how to end my next novel, I sit back down on the bed and try to get back to my writing – but I keep turning to look at the bed bug in its little death atrium beside me.
I glance down at the sheets and I’m overcome with the creepy-crawlies (that’s the scientific term). Something else moves on the blanket. A little, white something. I shiver violently, grab another spoon, and shovel it inside the death atrium. I have two hostages now. Just to be safe, I take a closer look at the sheets.
That’s when I see the army of bed bugs. Everywhere I look, there are little white, red, and brown bumps inching along the linens. I scoop the arsenal of evidence into the Tupperware container mostly out of defense at this point – remember, these things don’t die. I then promptly shower, rocking back and forth beneath the steaming stream of water without touching anything.
Cleansed, I pull the smelly desk chair to the farthest corner of the room and turn it around so that it becomes a fort. I’m armed with my bug-guts-soaked spoon. I don’t sleep at all. I go 30 hours without rest because, well, where was I supposed to sleep? The linen-covered bug bath? The tub? Actually, the tub sounds great at this point.
Phase 7: Carry bed bug spray around for the rest of your life
…Seriously. There’s a can in my car now.
We fought the hotel company for a week to be (partially) reimbursed for having to throw out a hefty chunk of our stuff and wash the rest of it 3 times each. Even with 6 live bed bugs in the death atrium, they called our infestation “Alleged” and it was three days before they got a pest control person out to look at the room to even confirm what the bugs were.
Still, to this day, the haunting shivers of little feet shuffle over the skin beneath my shirts. They’re gone and we’re free, but the phantoms of bed bugs past course along my scalp. I know that someday, the rest of the army will find me and avenge their fallen.
When that day comes, I’ll be ready – smooshing spoon in f***ing hand.