YOU ARE HERE: Central Kentucky Home→Collections

Bedbugs are the stuff of nightmares

July 18, 2012|By Rhonda Dragomir | Journal Columnist

While burn bans may control some kinds of wildfires, evidently there’s no ban that will control the wildfire of a rumor. Winds of fear fan the flames, and before you know it, the entire county is engulfed.

One amazing characteristic of a rumor is that attempts to defuse it only seem to make it spread.
Library director Ron Critchfield’s reasoned responses to the rumors of bedbugs in the DVD collection seem futile in the face of one picture on the Internet.

Fear is fueled by imagination, and I will confess that bedbugs have me a little skittish. Just the thought of tiny bugs that feed on human blood sounds Star Trek scary to me. I do travel some, and I sometimes have guests in my home, so the fear of bedbugs is not completely irrational.

It’s enough to make one long for the days when bedbugs were the ones fearful of powerful insecticides like DDT. There are moments when I’d almost accept the risk of a disease of my own to get rid of insects. I don’t have much confidence in “green” products. It would be like attacking Godzilla with a BB gun.

I recently replaced the mattress protector on my bed, ordering online. When my purchase arrived, inside was a brochure advertising all their anti-bedbug supplies. The mere wording sent itchy shudders all the way to my toes. Mattress encasements, powders and sprays, and even a gadget you put under the feet of your bed–all are available for the low, low price — no; there are no low prices.

Then I began reading all the places one may encounter the pesky creatures and carry them home.
These “blood-sucking parasites” may be picked up in hotels, airplanes, cruise ships, movie theaters and even hospitals. Strange, though, in all my reading, I never saw a library mentioned as a high-risk environment for bedbugs.

I won’t even begin to describe the disgusting pictures of the evil pests themselves, nor of skin with big red welts bearing groups of three bites labeled “breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Even the latin name of the bedbug, Cimex lectularius, sounds like the villain from a sci-fi movie. I read only a few paragraphs about the development of the bug before my stomach got queasy and I stopped.

One sentence, however, was the primary demise of my quest for more bedbug knowledge. “There are five progressively larger nymphal stages, each requiring a single blood meal before molting to the next stage.” I think I now know enough. Sleep may elude me for a while tonight.

Still, reason should prevail even under the assault of wildfire rumors. Bedbug eggs usually attach to clothing, not plastic. I see no purpose for them lurking inside a DVD case hoping to jump upon the next library patron for a tasty meal. Besides, what if they chose the wrong movie case inside which to lurk? If some poor, stupid bedbug chose to hide inside “Waterworld,” it would be lights out, baby; it would starve to death before someone checked it out.

I’m choosing to spend my limited fear-fighting resources on something more useful than bedbugs.
I’m less concerned about a bedbug putting the bite on me than a Washington politician. Now, there’s something to truly fear.

|

|

|