Thursday, July 21, 2011

a week of (not so) wonderful

i knew pests would be an issue here, and with risk of dengue fever with certain bites, both i and my employer have been overly careful to the tune of extra-strength bug spray. unfortunately, as a result of one of my last nights in winston, i was already behind. i left home with two mosquito bites, garnered easily in sleep after accidentally leaving my patio door open all night. i managed to mostly resist scratching said bites (except once or twice, involuntarily), and they have now mostly healed with no scabbing. tiny, pink battle scars for the war over my body. however, after being here one week, i have three horrible, dare-i-say festering, bites on my leg and foot. since i didn't actually witness myself receiving the bites, and they aren't identifiable as anything i've been bitten by before (this includes but is not limited to, mosquitoes, spiders, wasps, snakes, and flies) i'm going to attribute it to one thing: ants. lots and lots of them. in my bed, with me in it. ::squirms::

in the past, i have convinced myself that i'm not terribly squeamish, but that's kind of a misnomer on my part. the sight of blood generally doesn't bother me, but i've almost passed out several times while giving blood or being injured (and, actually, i've been injured WHILE giving blood, ask me about that experience sometime). i've killed snakes with shovels, and trapped spiders under glass. things feasting on me, however, is where i draw a big, fat, squeamish line. well, let's just say i am NOT VERY FOND, and that is the least offensive way i can word it. waking up with ants in my bed definitely prompted some choice words and a nearly sleepless night (or two). this is one case in which i am thankful for all the horrible chemicals they sprayed to rid my apartment of the problem.

it's apparently some kind of cardinal sin to make complaints while you're visiting a tropical paradise, but it definitely bears documentation, at least here. the thought of ants in your bed doesn't go away, even after the reality does. it wakes you up at night to flip on the lights and flip off the sheets and run your hands down your legs, brushing away phantom plagues. it leaves you tingling and itchy, anticipating more and worse, even after you've eradicated the obvious problem. it also apparently renders you unable to control your own body, because i can't help but scratch on and around these swollen bumps. fortunately, a good soak in the salty ocean water seems to really help the itching, along with a heavy hand with hydrocortizone cream and bug spray.

ugh, bugs. right up there with zombies and vampires as general me-munching menaces to the population.

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