Hello, Friends,
Something is definitely happening from my giving up gluten and dairy while maintaining/increasing much-needed iodine levels. Firstly, my chemical sensitivity reactions continue, for the most part, to be muted in their intensity.
Secondly, speed is coming back into my life. I'm no longer slumping around the house feeling like sludge. I'm skittering. The sensation of lightness and coordination in my feet -- this is a sign. It's a sign because it's happened before when major wellness was returning after a long, bad bout of something or other.
Yes, I can tell you exactly when this happened before!
It happened when we landed here, in this fresh-air house, the week I and my family had to leave our natural-gas-fueled log cabin because I could not breathe (see my earlier post entitled, "Daisies"). I went, literally overnight, from a person who could not bend over to pick a sock up off the floor without practically keeling over to a person who was nimbly racing up and down the staircase, here, doing one task after another. I was already several months gluten-free at that time -- my first attempt at a gluten-free life. But I hadn't been able to reap the benefits due to heavy vapors in the air from the natural-gas-powered appliances.
When we arrived here, however, despite the inglorious state of the house at that time, I began to thrive.
As the years went on, however, I began to doubt my gluten status and relaxed all my dietary restrictions. I also began to consume dairy much more heavily -- which has turned out to have been a big problem. And, as I've just recently learned, my iodine level was already plummeting. The longer it plummets, the worse things get. One problem feeds off another.
So, although the air quality here is superb (from my point of view), my entire system had recently been clogged with things I could not really tolerate . . . while I also lacked sufficient iodine. On a systemic level, this is metaphorically like having no kindling for a fire and inhaling only the smoke of the embers. A wood fire is something I can still tolerate, so long as I'm not close to it -- or to its smoke -- for long ("long" being a relative thing).
This thought, however, leads me back to the topic of chemical inhalation -- and how my getting away from a toxic mix of gaseous vapors in our previous home was absolutely essential, not only to keeping the "spring" in my step, but to keeping me alive. I had apparently become sensitized to natural gas and its combustion byproducts.
The week we ended up leaving our old home, nine years ago, I'd already gone to the emergency room twice for oxygen. The oxygen not only helped -- it helped tremendously and basically "cured" my faintness/weakness and breathing difficulty.
The first day I'd arrived at the ER, the hospital staff assumed that the oxygen saturation monitor on my finger was "broken" because my reading was in the 70's. Meanwhile, I was in a state of thinning physical alertness and near to collapse as I sat there with my frozen-feeling finger (I was cold and barely circulating). The hospital staff's next assumption, for lack of a better conclusion in sight, was that I was experiencing a peanut allergy. I had, therefore, perhaps the only peanut allergy on record to be cured by oxygen administration alone. I had refused all drugs. And, as a matter of interest, I eat peanut butter to this day.
By the third day (that same week nine years ago) that I felt strange and faint and started gulping for air, I wanted to go back to the ER for more oxygen. However, I'd been filling out an application to visit a highly recommended alternative-medicine center -- and this application right in front of my face was asking me if I used natural gas appliances in the home. Why, yes, I did use them! In fact, at that very moment I was cooking pinto beans and onions on the stove (one remembers one's "last meal").
I was determined to complete that lengthy application while, at the same time, I was beginning to gasp for more air, feeling increasingly labored and stressed -- a sweaty, "you're on a treadmill getting nowhere" feeling. When I arose from my chair to phone my husband about going to the ER yet again, my breathing worsened. I told my husband, on the phone, about the natural-gas question on my questionnaire, which was nowhere near completed. He looked up "natural gas" on his computer at work and located those few precious links I've included in my "Natural Gas" tab, above.
Based upon what he was reading, in sync with the importance of natural gas being on my questionnaire (natural gas being viewed by this alternative-medicine center as a chemical hindrance to good health), my husband urged me to open all the windows immediately and leave the house for fresh air rather than sit in the hospital for another five hours. In light of this new information about natural gas, my husband's idea seemed a reasonable option. I didn't really want to be in the ER again. Who does?
The problem was, I now had trouble putting on my socks and sneakers. When I went to aim my foot into my sock, I was no longer able to do so in the way I was accustomed. Each foot just floundered in the air, unable to reach its intended destination. I had to make several tries. My coordination was deteriorating. I struggled until somehow I got the aim right, and I squeezed my feet into the sneakers as fast as I could. I then went to comb my hair in the bathroom. As I looked at myself in the mirror and went to lift the comb to my hair, to my horror, I couldn't lift my arm to the level of my hair. My arm had mysteriously become far too heavy. It just "stopped" in mid-air. The air felt like quicksand all around me. This was a moment I would never forget.
I was now seriously unable to inhale whatever it was that I needed from the air. Every breath was a labor, and it felt truly as though I were holding my breath while trying to breathe. I finally made it out the door.
During the remainder of that day and a bit into the next day, I recovered my lung capacity. Oxygen would have speeded this up nicely, but the goal was, indeed, met -- albeit in a much slower fashion -- by simply leaving the house. It was hard, but my breathing recovered, progressing little by little, hour by hour. I spent that day in my car in various parking lots, just breathing and breathing. (It was cold and very windy outside, and I didn't want to be in any natural-gas-heated buildings). As a matter of record, there were no peanut products implicated in this episode. My system had been clear of them for a few days.
At this point, I'm making a special note here to you, my readers, as well as to myself: Please make an effort to preserve, for yourselves, the text of the "natural gas" links in my tab, above. A few of the original articles have already disappeared over the past few years. I believe these links to be extremely valuable -- and rare -- resources. I've not yet found any other such links, since then.
In summary, an innocuous-looking little question on an alternative-medicine application may very well have saved my life. I say "may" in order to state things in a more scientifically accurate manner; however, on the personal level, I'm quite convinced that it did, in fact, save my life. That little question -- plus the invaluable links on the health hazards of natural gas documented by the concerned residents of Nova Scotia.
May this information help many, many others.
Cheers!
~ Daisies
Something is definitely happening from my giving up gluten and dairy while maintaining/increasing much-needed iodine levels. Firstly, my chemical sensitivity reactions continue, for the most part, to be muted in their intensity.
Secondly, speed is coming back into my life. I'm no longer slumping around the house feeling like sludge. I'm skittering. The sensation of lightness and coordination in my feet -- this is a sign. It's a sign because it's happened before when major wellness was returning after a long, bad bout of something or other.
Yes, I can tell you exactly when this happened before!
It happened when we landed here, in this fresh-air house, the week I and my family had to leave our natural-gas-fueled log cabin because I could not breathe (see my earlier post entitled, "Daisies"). I went, literally overnight, from a person who could not bend over to pick a sock up off the floor without practically keeling over to a person who was nimbly racing up and down the staircase, here, doing one task after another. I was already several months gluten-free at that time -- my first attempt at a gluten-free life. But I hadn't been able to reap the benefits due to heavy vapors in the air from the natural-gas-powered appliances.
When we arrived here, however, despite the inglorious state of the house at that time, I began to thrive.
As the years went on, however, I began to doubt my gluten status and relaxed all my dietary restrictions. I also began to consume dairy much more heavily -- which has turned out to have been a big problem. And, as I've just recently learned, my iodine level was already plummeting. The longer it plummets, the worse things get. One problem feeds off another.
So, although the air quality here is superb (from my point of view), my entire system had recently been clogged with things I could not really tolerate . . . while I also lacked sufficient iodine. On a systemic level, this is metaphorically like having no kindling for a fire and inhaling only the smoke of the embers. A wood fire is something I can still tolerate, so long as I'm not close to it -- or to its smoke -- for long ("long" being a relative thing).
This thought, however, leads me back to the topic of chemical inhalation -- and how my getting away from a toxic mix of gaseous vapors in our previous home was absolutely essential, not only to keeping the "spring" in my step, but to keeping me alive. I had apparently become sensitized to natural gas and its combustion byproducts.
The week we ended up leaving our old home, nine years ago, I'd already gone to the emergency room twice for oxygen. The oxygen not only helped -- it helped tremendously and basically "cured" my faintness/weakness and breathing difficulty.
The first day I'd arrived at the ER, the hospital staff assumed that the oxygen saturation monitor on my finger was "broken" because my reading was in the 70's. Meanwhile, I was in a state of thinning physical alertness and near to collapse as I sat there with my frozen-feeling finger (I was cold and barely circulating). The hospital staff's next assumption, for lack of a better conclusion in sight, was that I was experiencing a peanut allergy. I had, therefore, perhaps the only peanut allergy on record to be cured by oxygen administration alone. I had refused all drugs. And, as a matter of interest, I eat peanut butter to this day.
By the third day (that same week nine years ago) that I felt strange and faint and started gulping for air, I wanted to go back to the ER for more oxygen. However, I'd been filling out an application to visit a highly recommended alternative-medicine center -- and this application right in front of my face was asking me if I used natural gas appliances in the home. Why, yes, I did use them! In fact, at that very moment I was cooking pinto beans and onions on the stove (one remembers one's "last meal").
I was determined to complete that lengthy application while, at the same time, I was beginning to gasp for more air, feeling increasingly labored and stressed -- a sweaty, "you're on a treadmill getting nowhere" feeling. When I arose from my chair to phone my husband about going to the ER yet again, my breathing worsened. I told my husband, on the phone, about the natural-gas question on my questionnaire, which was nowhere near completed. He looked up "natural gas" on his computer at work and located those few precious links I've included in my "Natural Gas" tab, above.
Based upon what he was reading, in sync with the importance of natural gas being on my questionnaire (natural gas being viewed by this alternative-medicine center as a chemical hindrance to good health), my husband urged me to open all the windows immediately and leave the house for fresh air rather than sit in the hospital for another five hours. In light of this new information about natural gas, my husband's idea seemed a reasonable option. I didn't really want to be in the ER again. Who does?
The problem was, I now had trouble putting on my socks and sneakers. When I went to aim my foot into my sock, I was no longer able to do so in the way I was accustomed. Each foot just floundered in the air, unable to reach its intended destination. I had to make several tries. My coordination was deteriorating. I struggled until somehow I got the aim right, and I squeezed my feet into the sneakers as fast as I could. I then went to comb my hair in the bathroom. As I looked at myself in the mirror and went to lift the comb to my hair, to my horror, I couldn't lift my arm to the level of my hair. My arm had mysteriously become far too heavy. It just "stopped" in mid-air. The air felt like quicksand all around me. This was a moment I would never forget.
I was now seriously unable to inhale whatever it was that I needed from the air. Every breath was a labor, and it felt truly as though I were holding my breath while trying to breathe. I finally made it out the door.
During the remainder of that day and a bit into the next day, I recovered my lung capacity. Oxygen would have speeded this up nicely, but the goal was, indeed, met -- albeit in a much slower fashion -- by simply leaving the house. It was hard, but my breathing recovered, progressing little by little, hour by hour. I spent that day in my car in various parking lots, just breathing and breathing. (It was cold and very windy outside, and I didn't want to be in any natural-gas-heated buildings). As a matter of record, there were no peanut products implicated in this episode. My system had been clear of them for a few days.
At this point, I'm making a special note here to you, my readers, as well as to myself: Please make an effort to preserve, for yourselves, the text of the "natural gas" links in my tab, above. A few of the original articles have already disappeared over the past few years. I believe these links to be extremely valuable -- and rare -- resources. I've not yet found any other such links, since then.
In summary, an innocuous-looking little question on an alternative-medicine application may very well have saved my life. I say "may" in order to state things in a more scientifically accurate manner; however, on the personal level, I'm quite convinced that it did, in fact, save my life. That little question -- plus the invaluable links on the health hazards of natural gas documented by the concerned residents of Nova Scotia.
May this information help many, many others.
Cheers!
~ Daisies
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