rage against the mites, part deux

I'm fairly certain that the little bastards came from the half-log that I bought for Charlie a couple of weeks ago. There was absolutely NO critters in her tank before then. After the log? Critter central. I'm pretty convinced this is the problem. Especially since I held her a couple of times before the log was introduced and I never found any crawlies on her, even after some thorough investigations of her body (I'm slightly on the paranoid side and checked her every time I was holding her for aberrations of any kind).

SO. I put in a panicked call to tony_s tonight and explained the situation to him. He talked me down off the ledge and gave me a few pieces of advice and some instructions to do for tonight and will be calling me back tomorrow (his phone was close to death when we spoke) with further words.

I've spent the last hour and a half breaking her tank down, scrubbing the shit out of it with hot soapy water, then a bleach solution, then hot soapy water AGAIN, and then rinsing the ever-loving fuck out of it. All of her hidey spots and plants were soaked in bleach water, then scrubbed with hot soapy water and rinsed within an inch of their lives. The half-log has met its new friend, the dumpster, and her climbing stick is currently in a plastic bag, awaiting its trial by oven tomorrow afternoon (going to bake it for a couple of hours on low, this should kill any mites hiding out).

Charlie herself was unceremoniously dumped gently placed in warm water to soak, in the hopes that any stowaways would perform a reenactment of the drowning scene from Titantic. She wasn't all that pleased with this state of affairs. She seems to recognize me when I pick her up and never gives me any trouble or goes into any defensive postures, so when I reached into her tank tonight, she was all Oh, hey! It's you! and immediately began braceletting herself around my wrist, giving me little snakey hugs along the way. Once I started lowering her into the warm bath container (a tupperware like container that I'd poked holes into its lid), all bets were off and she immediately began attempting to twine her way to freedom. No dice, lady. You're getting in this freaking bath if it kills me. And in, she went. She glared at me through the side of the container, beaming evil little snake thoughts my way the entire time I washed out her home and belongings.

After a good long soak, it was recommended to rub her down with olive oil, to suffocate any mites still on her. Ever lube up a snake with organic virgin olive oil? It's not something I would ever recommend. Charlie probably wouldn't recommend it either. By the time I was done, she and I and the bathroom counter all had a liberal coating of the oil. The cats snickered from their vantage point on my bed, resting safe in their knowledge that I most likely would never need to coat them in olive oil (note to self, come up with a new way to torture the cats, take photos for documentation on LJ).

Charlie is now back in her tank, minus her plants. Instead of aspen for substrate, I put down a snowy layer of papertowels (Tony had told me newspaper, but I didn't have any and I also figured I'd be able to see any remaining mites better against the paper towels).

Tomorrow, I'm going to vaccum the hell out of my bedroom and wash the walls near her tank, then see what other instructions I get. Such a lovely endevour. The Engineer is worried that this round of mites will make their way upstairs into his apartment and move in with his own three snakes, but I'm taking all manner of steps to avoid this. I haven't handled any of the snakes directly after touching Charlie, so they should be in the clear. To be on the safe side, I changed out of the safe-to-get-bleach-on-them clothes I'd put on when I got home tonight and put them into a plastic bag to be washed tomorrow.

I've effectively changed clothes about four times today. Once, this afternoon when I got dressed to go out with Wemble. Then, when I got home and changed my shirt before going over to Rowan's house. Third, into the bleaching-safe clothes I wore for tank cleaning. And fourth, into pajamas before I go upstairs to the Engineer's apartment for bed. I'm contemplating a fifth time because I've got an uber case of the skin crawlies from all this mite bullshit and am thinking about getting another shower. hoom.

Goddamn mites.

Maybe she'll eat for me after all of this is said and done.