This isn't about diving: But you'll want to read it.

This is about bedbugs.

I had (have?) them last week.

It started with me waking up with what I thought were mosquito bites on my arms and feet. Seeing as I actually killed 2 mosquitos in my room on the two days following the bites, I wasn't worried.

On the third day, I woke up again with new bites, and thought those end of season buggers were really struggling to the last. On that day, my boyfriend said: Those aren't mosquitos those are 'chinches.'  'Chinches' is the word he used, in Spanish, and I wasn't sure what exactly that meant.

Day four. Again, two or three more bites. And the old ones are burning and itching periodically without fading, as a mosquito bite does. The bites were irregular, and some round... and blotchy. I thought maybe they were shingles (used to get shingles periodically when there were extreme changes in the weather).

Day five. Another bite. Too many days have gone by and my shingles only take 3 to break out fully. Maybe they are spider bites?

On day six, a Friday, I go to my mother's home in another state for a day-late Thanksgiving day dinner. Afterwards, I leave with my sister to spend some time at her house. As I leave, my mom tells me: Your poor sister, she's so sensitive... I gave her poison ivy just from kissing her! (My mom had poison ivy from doing some fall weeding last week.)

When I arrive at my sister's house and we start talking, she points to the 'poison ivy' spot on her face that she supposedly got from my mom.

That's when I panicked. It looked like the bites I had on my body. And, in those 3 hours I'd been home, a new one had appeared on my arm.

Nonchalantly, i go to my sister's computer and google 'chinche'.  Waiting for the results, I'm thinking: okay, it's not fleas, that word is 'pulga' and we would have seen them jumping.... it's not lice, there'd be eggs in my hair or clothing or somthing... it's not......

The results: 'Chinche. Chinche de cama.'  Oh no, I think: bed bugs!  and then.... What are bedbugs?

Of course I'd heard of them... but i was thinking about some things we used to yell at eachother as kids: Keep away from Todd... He has cooties!    What was a cootie?  Nothing. It was an imaginary disease or bug... Bedbugs are imaginary too, right?

No. wrong.

Known as the 'traveling bug' (because it hides out in your clothes, bags, and you take them to your home) these nocturnal, blood-sucking beasties live in cloth, first infesting the seams of things: the seam of the mattress, the box spring.... and later curtains, wood, behind picture frames. They thrive in warm environments, move real fast for their size and scurry from light. When babies, they are barely the size of a grain of sand, without color or translucenty brown. In other words: really hard to see. (And difficult mentally, to conceive of when you have never had experience with them.) When older they can be a couple millimeters long and darker brown (they are hard to miss when they are mature). The female can lay between 200 and 350 eggs in her life span. I don't know what their life span is. But, they can live for up to a year without any blood meal. I also don't know how long it takes them to digest their 'meal' (a.k.a. your blood. If I knew that would give me an indication of how many I may have had. 15 bites in 5 days could be 3 bedbugs who feed once daily, or 15 bedbugs (or more) if they feed once a week.) But after biting you, they retreat to their 'home' (i.e. into your boxspring or mattress) to digest. The tell tale sign of an infestation is small round, blackish stains on the underside of your mattress, especially concentrated at the edges/seams/corners. This is their fecal matter.

When I realized what I had, and how easily they travel, I was more than dismayed. Horrified.

I left my sister's, depressed, barely giving her a kiss, and not tucking in my niece with a story as I normally do on visits home.

My boyfriend was on the way in the bus from New York to spend the night and go with me the following day to visit some of my relatives. I call him: we are going to have to go back tonight. I can't bring this to my family. He understands.

When he arrives, I pick him up at the bus station, and after I get back to my mother's house, I tell her what I think we have and that we are going to have to go back home to NY. A look: like simultaneously remembering and imagining, eyes distant, disturbed, washes over her face. She says in her loving, sing-songy, rich tones, but quickly: Okay honey, well, i can give you a credit card and you can stay at a hotel for tonight, okay?

Ugh! My own mother! So terrible is this thing I am probably carrying that my own mother, without hesitating, invites me to stay in a hotel rather than in her home.

I gather my things and she drives us. After checking in. I cry. Shower thoroughly. And sleep naked. Blissfully 'untickled' in my sleep.

People out there reading this.... this thing is terrible. I have been afraid to stay at home, and afraid to go out for fear of spreading it to other people. I feel like there is something crawling over my body constantly. I am lifting up my shirt, looking for something and never find it. When it gets dark, I start to get really nervous, and turn on all the lights. At night, I lay awake for hours flinching, hitting at the slightest tickle or movement of the hairs on my body. I feel like something is crawling in my hair.  But they don't live in hair, I believe. Although they wouldn't hesitate to crawl there if you're in bed with them.

Everybody I read online seems to go through similar experiences when it was the first time they had them: Confusion, Denial, Realization, Depression, Terror, Paranoia. Hypersensitivity. Panick. Paranoia, terror, panick, paranoia...

On getting back to NY, I contacted my landlord immediately.  He has provided us with a spray that others in my building use. This spray (Permakil-25 Bonide) seems to be doing the job. I have slept 2 nights with no bites. We have sprayed the mattresses, couches, door frames, baseboards, carpeting. We have sprayed our clothing and have done about $100 in laundry. (By the way, washing your clothes may not help the situation. People say to dry on the highest temperature setting, but that laundering is no guarentee.) Also, regular insecticides won't necessarily get rid of them. The insecticide must target bedbugs.

My landlord promised an exterminator, but seems to be dragging his feet on delivering. I'm almost positive it's his duty to provide one. If not, we'll be getting one on our own and taking it out of next month's rent.

I have a feeling he's being slow because he knows something we don't. Something like: Bedbugs are the eternally returning. Fumigation  may get rid of what you have, but if neighbors or visitors have them, they can come back: on clothing, through the walls, over door frames, across the carpets and back to your bed. Okay, so who has them? Where did we get ours?

We had a mouse last week in the room where they started. We thought the mouse brought them. Who knows, though... bedbugs aren't like lice or scabies (which I also found out about online while researching this). When asked frankly about if our apartment had them before moving in (we moved in just 7 weeks ago), he said no. What about the apartment across the hall? No. BUT! The apartment above ours, he admits, had (have?) them!  Fantastic!!!! Also, he thinks the building next door (sharing a wall with ours) has them.

It seems that there has been a flareup of bedbugs in the last couple years.... and in places like NY where people live and travel in close quarters, there are no end of the nightmarish stories online (once you start looking for them.) But people don't volunteer information face to face. And it's no wonder. Some may not know what they have. Other's know perfectly well, and are loathe of the alienation that happens when others find out.   When I walked into home depot and said 'Excuse me.' I got a warm smile and 'How may I help you?' When I said I'm looking for insecticides and things to kill bedbugs, the clerks backed up a step and pointed to the appropriate aisle, eyes jarting, when they found the opportunity, nervously over my clothing.

That's why I've written this non-dive entry: Some people don't know what they have and wait too long to do something about it. Some are afraid to say anything because  others think you are dirty if you have them. Although, anyone who backs up a step is justified in doing so since these invisible, sprinting monsters are difficult to battle, costing you a ton in time, cash, and emotions.

Anyway.... that's the end of this story for now.    The moral: Be warned. Buy Permakil-25. And don't wait to go through the confusion, denial, depression or panick stages if you wake up with bites one morning. Throw out your mattress and do something!

7:16 AM - 11/29/2006 - comments {0} - post comment

NY Aquarium... and some gear advice....

Recently I went to the NY Aquarium at Coney Island.... Actually, I didn't want to go... I was focused on getting to step on sand... which I didn't get to do all summer. (I was indoors studying for exams and finishing incompletes in school.) But before getting onto the beach, my boyfriend insisted that we go in. So we go. And I had to thank him later. We watched an amazing show with sea lions, and as I walked around, I recalled what that dull feeling of discontent I had was: I needed to dive.   So... I've looked up volunteer opportunities at the aquarium. And it turns out that have a volunteer dive team. The task: cleaning algae and scraping glass. In water probably not deepter than 5 meters. The good news is that I'm totally into it.  I think I've been looking for something like this for a while. Being a full-time student (for 6 or 7 years now), I often feel that I'm not doing enough.... that I consume without giving back. So, I think I found my thing. I'm really great at tedius, meticulous work that no one else wants to do...  cleaning, organizing papers.....     When my other part time jobs finish up, I'm gonna volunteer there... just to see the fishes, to do some work, to give something to a cause I believe in.

But before that, I want to take some classes.  AND... I've committed to buying my own gear finally.  So...  here's the deal: I was looking for some advice.

I need a regulator and BCD.    My questions: Suggestions of particular items for a once-in-a-while recreational diver (still with only 30 dives)? I do some colder water stuff here in NY. Otherwise, I am looking for practical, not cheap, but not designer, gear that works. I'm even okay with like-new second hand items.

3:05 PM - 9/18/2006 - comments {0} - post comment

Difficulty Breathing

Sometimes I forget to breathe.  I don’t mean underwater, I mean here in New York.  I’ve been here for 2 years now, and it seems like I’ve been holding my breath for about that long.  I’m waiting for something, but I don’t know what.....  For it to be over.  But what?  What “it”? 

 I tried to keep diving here, but demands of “Life” keep popping up and it seems hard to do what I'm supposed to do (i.e. what I get paid to do) *plus* to find the time (and money on my tiny salary) to do diving.   I keep resolving to go diving more often, if for no other reason than just to remember what it feels like to breathe again.  Could it be that that stupid simple reason, the thorough fulfillment of and focus on that basic biological process, is why life seems better underwater?  Or could it be that diving for me will simply always be associated with shinier eyes and sunnier days?

    *        B        *        R        *        E        *        A        *        T        *         H        *        E        *

8:41 PM - 2/22/2006 - comments {0} - post comment

Will I be? a Dive Shop Monkey?

This blog has been utterly neglected. I have no dive experiences to relate -- only the possibility that I might work in a dive shop. 

 But the question is: *Should* I?   The situation would be great for me just to be around and learning stuff and to take the occasional dive while I save up to do my divemaster.  The down part of it is... I would have to *sell* stuff.  The problem is: ever since hoagies in the 9th grade, which I had to sell to make points to go on the band trip, I  hated selling. Actually... it stems back before this... even when I was only 7 or 8 and had to sell Easter Candy in elementary school, I loathed it then too.  Not even the promise of prizes like shiny new bikes and portable (wow! PORTABLE!!) tape players ever enticed me to want to call up people I knew and ask if they wanted to spend their money. 

Of course this situation would be different now cause people would be coming to ME to ask about stuff  THEY want.  That's better.  But, there's one other issue.  I'm not pushy, and I get the sensation that the selling philosophy of the place *is*.  I think it goes something like:  " If you don't want our (more expensive) stuff... bite me."  Believe it or not, I actually heard this uttered in not so many words by a person working there.

So, with these holdups, one might say: "Duh. I think you already know what to do -- why you sweatin it?"  But, there's that one thing: being around, even remotely, divers, AND learning stuff about diving, AND making some money for it is so enticing.

What's funny about this situation is -- time after time, I find myself taking jobs where I have to sell. And time after time I hate it.  These jobs seem to be in abundance.... and I'm a bit silly..... I'll probably take the job, learn some stuff about diving and equipment, hate selling, and leave eventually. It seems I never learn... or maybe....

I just like to learn over and over and over and over and over.....

1:30 PM - 2/10/2006 - comments {2} - post comment

New Types of Marine Life: the *assholicus diveronicus *

So I had my in-class training for the dry-suit.  Not too bad...  I was both amused and pleased that my instructor asked me to don and "de-don" the suit 3 consecutive times.  I rarely (in fact, if ever)  encountered this kind of thoroughness in previous training experiences.  ... Or, was he just trying to keep me busy while he single-handedly answered phones, payed the guy delivering lunch, and rearranged tanks?  Can't be sure.

I went to the pool later to have some fun with the suit on my own... you know... inflate. deflate. inflate. deflate... and just generally hover around 5 meters.   It wasn't diving like I like I was used to from tropical vacation spots  -- but there *is* something about breathing pressurized air while floating in liquid that is generally agreeable with me.   (Walking home later I felt looser in the shoulders and back than I have for weeks)... and you know... there is more interesting stuff at the bottom of an indoor pool than one would imagine  (observing, for instance, the lines of paintilius imperfectionus, or the strands of curlionicus haironae left from the elusive swimmeronicus geriatricus (which can only be seen from about 6:15 to 7:30 in the morning), and i even got the chance to see a bando-aidorum stuck in the jaws of the ruthless drainia-gratidia.  All-in-all, a full evening.

On the other hand, I wasn't fully pleased with my experience.  (Now I want to be cautious about how I say this.)

You know those people who, from the first moment meeting them, you feel as if everything they say is an attempt to get a one-up on you?  Well, that was the guy I was working with.  On my first day of classroom with him, he started by drilling me on pounds per square inch of pressure on the body at various depths.  Okay, I know a responsible diver should probably know this, and anyone serious about diving probably will.... But this was the first day I really get to know him, and it's been quite some time since I've seen those figures.  (And if you looked at my profile, you'll see that I'm still relatively new to this, with just over 20 dives).  So, of course this first day, I am pretty slow... trying to remember all the terms in the imperial and metric system, meanwhile trying to mentally convert between feet (which is what he is using) and meters (which is what I think in when I think diving depths), asking for paper.....   We struggle like this for about 10 minutes.   He felt he couldn't go on to dry suit course material until I was better with this stuff... So, on his request, I went home that night re-read the entire Open-water manual, watched the video and retook the test (which by the way, has/d almost no questions about the math/physics of the effects on the body).  I was happy to review... it was something I wanted to do for a while.  I come back the next day, we score my tests... I do fine.  I'm ready to go with the simple math and theory --- then, we don't talk, not even a minute, about the theoretical stuff which was so damn important to him the day before.   From this day forward, he treats me as if I were either a.) learning disabled or b.) like i'm trying to personally challenge/confront him.  But,  i (thankfully) noticed he has this behavior with almost everyone... so I can't take it personally (I say "thankfully" here, cause I was beginning to think that I had merited this treatment by acting like a jerk without realizing it.)

(Sigh).  Had been hoping for a more amicable crew... more "chilled-ness"... like I had come to expect of divers just because they *were* divers.  But, it appears divers, like other aquatic life, come in many varieties:  Looks like I have found myself a new one... A rare one: one from the assholicus family.

8:00 PM - 10/6/2005 - comments {6} - post comment

Diver eye-candy? Or Sunday dinner?

I couldn't wait any longer... I wanted to sign up for a class -- preferably an intro to wreck diving....   but the guys I've been talking to let me know I'd have to do a dry suit course first.  Of course, silly me!!  It's almost winter (as a matter of fact, it turned cold here in a matter of 3 days)... and I'm in New York.    While I'm glad to be adding to those "diving skills"...  what i really want is to see the wrecks... it'll have to wait a couple weeks though.   In the meantime, I will do the dry suit dives at a place called "Dutch Springs," in nearby Pennsylvania.     Heeheehee.... I went to the Dutch Springs website... and they profess such breathtaking sites as:   A school bus, which.... "...after giving years of dependable and safe service carrying school children, will now amuse divers for many years."    (oooo  lala !) as well as the potential to... "... enjoy a variety of interesting fish life including Rainbow Trout, Largemouth Bass..."   Hmmm... I am not particularly thrilled by the idea of "exploring" a purposely-submerged school bus.   And the only thing interesting about largemouth bass I can think of is considering whether to eat it fried with lemon or broiled with coriander.    But I'm being ungrateful and negative.   At least there are my new fins!  (Errrr... that is, if they fit with the dry suit booties! )

12:31 PM - 10/2/2005 - comments {2} - post comment

A pick me up and tide me over: My new Fins

So... I just bought myself new fins.  Actually the first fins I own.   And booties.  I don't know if they really *are* because they *are*... or just because they are new and they are all mine, but when I think of my fins, I think:  DREAMY .  I think they're pretty standard... I was trying to stay away from things with too many "vortex-creating channels" and splits and cuts and holes that supposedly make everything easier.  Since I knew I really didn't do enough research on my own, I thought: Stick to standard, girl!  I got Mares AvantiQuattro.  I heard nice things.  And they were about my price range (well, actually, consulting my last bank statement... maybe not... but)  The purchase was inevitable...  AND necessary seeing as I'm not sure I'll get to go diving for another month yet, and it's been 8 months since I last dived.    I think of the fins as a "tide me over" purchase until I can be back under water.

7:48 PM - 9/28/2005 - comments {0} - post comment

Here they are:

Does anyone know what this is for?  It came in the bag. 

4:36 PM - 9/28/2005 - comments {4} - post comment

This has been blog one.

3:07 PM - 9/27/2005 - comments {3} - post comment