Still with the bites on my ass. And shoulders. And calves. And forearms. Two nights ago, I had two bites so itchy that they woke me up in the middle of the night and I lay there trying not to scratch them. Doing three part breath and letting the thought of scratching them come into my head and then trying to let it go.
Eventually, matter won over mind and I gave those fuckers a good going over. Of course it didn't help in the long run. It never does. But the first moments of relief were on the orgasmic continuum.
After the scratching that didn't help for long I got up and put toothpaste on them, which is what we did with mosquito bites when I was a kid. It helped and I got back to sleep. But I woke up still itchy and not a little frustrated.
I have performed approximately one hundred internet searches in an attempt to figure out what is biting me, all to no avail. So while I cleaned up after breakfast yesterday morning, Eric poked around the interweb on my laptop, looking for more information. As far as we can tell, they're not spider bites, because bites are hardly ever spider bites. They're not bed bugs, because other than me getting a series of bites every couple weeks there is not one whit of hard bed bug evidence. It seems likely to me that after 8 or so weeks of bites, I would have not a dearth of evidence but an infestation.
We narrowed it down to some kind of mite other than scabies* to which we both may be allergic, since Eric gets the occasional bite too. It may also be urticaria, which is a fancy word for hives. Which I know I am already prone to getting, because they pop up after I pet Freya sometimes. And also sometimes on my face after I eat. They can also be caused by microscopic things that cry tiny battle cries while you sleep: slavering dust mites or mold shooting off its spores. Huzzah.
Last night I vacuumed my mattress and emptied the dehumidifier in the basement and we'll see if that stops the whatever it is.
Owing to the pet and food hives, I have already added urticaria to Megan's List of Ridiculous Ailments. If it's going to make your life uncomfortable but not kill you, there's a pretty likely chance I either have, have had, or will have it. Scratch scratch.
*I actually got nauseous when Eric explained that they live and breed under your skin. That is not something I knew about scabies. As an aside to Grace, the thought makes me want to scratch my palm with my middle finger to ward off the queasiness.
