I'd Prepared for Battle - They'd Prepared for War

Before wrapping the sofa, I thoroughly inspected my bed. I checked all the places you're supposed to: the seams of the mattress and box spring, in between them, all around the frame, behind the headboard, and including things hanging from the corners of my four poster bed and all the little nooks for the screws. These are all places on a bed frame bed bugs can hide or form a harborage. I saw no sign of bugs. I even searched the mattress for the tell-tale fecal and blood stains.

I found no trace of them on or near the bed.

I figured, a week or so would be enough time for anything living in the sofa to crawl through the diatomaceous earth I'd used to liberally powder the sofa, then I could unwrap, clean up the carcases, vacuum off the powder and then I'd be done. Bed bug problem solved.

I should have known in wouldn't be that easy, particularly when my contractor friend told me as much at a potluck the day after wrapping the couch.

For a couple of days, I was lulled into a bed bug "free" calm.

The following Wednesday I woke a little before my alarm. My wrist felt itchy and sure enough there was a welt. And my two cats were sitting next to my pillow, staring intently at the book I'd brought to bed with me the night before. I'm pretty sure they weren't interested in Living Dead in Dallas The were both perfectly still until my boy cat made his funny "there's an insect of some sort I'm tracking" noise, and I thought "Oh, F*CK. Here we go."

I started searching for the bug. I didn't see anything at first until my cat lunged at the book. The bed bug was crawling along the side of the book. When I picked up the book, it ducked between the pages (yes, they are that flat). I flipped it open and found a bed bug nymph that was one more blood meal away from adulthood. It crawled around to the front of the book, which I slammed against the headboard thinking "Die sucker!"

I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me, so I phoned the office to say I'd be home dealing with bed bugs. At that point, I was still too ashamed to admit it to everyone in the office. I had shared the sofa experience with a co-worker who I think of in some ways as a mentor already and took this opportunity to also let my immediate supervisor in on the problem. I asked them not to share with the entire office, because I didn't want anyone to think of me as a potential vector for infestation in the office and subsequently into their homes. I was still so new to the information myself, really, that I still had the "eww, bed bugs are dirty" stigma in mind.

At that point, I also notified my landlord. I hadn't done so immediately because I was unaware at the time that the California Department of Public Health Guidelines suggest I was supposed to notify him within 24 hours of first seeing the bugs. I was also, as I made clear earlier, naive as to the severity of the problem. At first, I really thought I'd successfully confined them to the sofa. I also have a little bit of PTSD around landlords providing services: my previous apartment was managed by a company would provide services, then turn around and bill me for them.

My landlord replied really quickly, but it was totally clear that he had not dealt with vermin infestation in the past and had no clue as to his rights and duties nor mine. But I was busy dealing with the mattresses for the rest of the day, so I didn't reply immediately.

My first action was to take both the mattress and box spring off the bed frame and inspect more closely. There were still no signs on the mattress itself, but I did see a couple of early stage larva on the frame. I sprayed the box spring and mattress with isopropyl alcohol in their entirites. Then I spread diatomaceous earth on the frame where the box spring would lay.

I'd learned my lesson about just going to the store and hoping they had what I needed before when I went to Home Depot looking for diatomaceous earth, so I did some research on where to find mattress encasements that both keep the bed bugs in and keep them out. They bed bug specific ones are really expensive - at minimum $60 for one mattress/box spring and $20 for pillows. For 2 mattresses and 4 pillows I was looking at $200. I just don't have that kind of money to spare, and I'd already spent about $60 wrapping and treating the sofa.

In the end, I went to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought 2 vinyl mattress encasements. They keep water out, and a water molecule is much smaller than a bed bug larva. The only worry was around the zipper, but I discovered online that you could duct tape over the zipper once the mattress was encased. The price for a single queen size vinyl encasement was a fraction of the cost of the bed bug specific encasement: only $17.99 each. I did splurge for 2 specific bed bug pillow encasements, choosing to throw away the two other pillows - they were decorative, usually sat on the floor next to the bed, and one had 2 bed bug nymphs along the seam that sat against the closed part of the pillow case. 

I encased the mattresses and dusted DE along the insides of the encasements

If I didn't have an air mattress, I would have ended up sleeping in the bath tub, with the bed and sofa off limits. But I do have an air mattress, so I set it up in the middle of the living room, dusted DE around the base, and used spare bedding to sleep with.  I was exhausted by the end of the day. I spent a good 12 hours dealing with bugs in various ways: from physical labor to research to procurement of supplies.  I slept pretty well that night, given the exhaustion ... and once again hoped I had managed to quell the scourge.