Tuesday, September 17, 2013

"How It Works"

Hello, Friends,

A very tough challenge in conversing about Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS) lies in identifying and dispelling hidden layers of confusion about "how MCS works."

The consequences of hidden confusion in a conversation range from "minor" to "vast."

For instance, even amongst those who are extremely accepting and amenable to making environmental alterations for their chemically sensitive friends, there can be great gaps of crucial knowledge still waiting to be filled in.

When these gaps are finally "filled in" with the necessary information, this is a good thing, indeed -- but also, then, what have we lost in terms of time?  What if a particular piece of delayed knowledge had been critical to a friend's physical well-being -- perhaps the very answer to a health puzzle needing desperately to be solved?  Time lost, in such a case, is a very unfortunate thing.

Here, for example, is one potential layer of confusion:

"You can do a standard medical test for chemical sensitivities, just as you can do a standard medical allergy test for an allergy."  This errant assumption on the part of one's listener can go undetected for an extraordinarily long time.  You can converse with people for years about your own chemical sensitivity before they begin to realize that no one ever came along with a battery of tests to diagnose you -- and that no one is likely to come along with a battery of tests with which to alert and diagnose them . . . if they needed it.  

This means that another person, theoretically, can conclude, "Well, I'm not 'like you' with chemicals.  My doctor would have brought that to my attention.  Surely it would have come up somehow."

Not usually the case.  An acquaintance of mine was recently very surprised to learn from me that, no, she couldn't just go "get tested" for a reactivity to this or that chemical. 

Well, then again, you can . . . if you've got the time and the money to go to Harvard for a few brain scans or time-patterned EKGs.  But, otherwise, you can't -- in any commonly available way -- trace a chemical's course through the nervous system.  Not yet, anyway.  The environmental scientists, doctors, and researchers are working on it . . .

MCS doesn't operate as pure histamine reactions do.  Instead, it runs more of a neurological route.  They're working on constructing diagnostic tests to measure this type of a reaction, as opposed to the usual "IgE" measurements and such.

This means that figuring out patterns of reactions to various chemical products is all going to depend upon the tracking efforts of the affected individual.  And, no, most mainstream MDs won't be backing up MCS sufferers with confirmation of their MCS.  Increasingly, however, doctors are beginning to "take one's word for it."  This kindness doesn't remove the chemicals from their offices, but it's a goodwill beginning.

Then, there are a million possible layers of confusion underlying the global topic of stress:  Is stress alone causing one's bouts of physical distress, or could a regular chemical exposure possibly be the immediate root cause?  Furthermore, are the repeat bouts of the physical distress, one bout on top of another, causing major systemic stress and diminishing one's otherwise robust coping skills -- thereby adding stress to stress?

I remember vividly the month I tried to be extra healthy and eat lots of apples.  I was in "rest mode" after systemic exhaustion and overwork -- and this was the time for me to feel better and get strong.  Every single day, I ate two or three red apples and got a ferocious migraine.  Even without stress, I was becoming disabled by migraines.  I seriously wondered how much a body could take.  I was in a chemical-free environment -- why were things spiralling out of control?

Every day, I would get to that hideous "peak" of the migraine where one turns weak and green and the blood pressure feels like it's suddenly plummeting to the floor -- and then I would vomit.  It was a terrifying moment, every time.  My nervous system was going into veritable cataclysms which felt as though they could turn into full-blown seizures, or cause me to pass out.  Something bad.

Lo and behold, I came across some literature that described the various strengths of pesticides used on various "conventional" produce.  The apples were among those items getting the worst of it.

I switched to "organic apples only."  The bout of daily migraines stopped.  I ran into the same thing with raw, unpeeled peppers -- heavily sprayed.

And so I learned.

When I'd suspected cigarette smoke as my first antagonist, years earlier, I forced myself to sit in a restaurant about 10 feet away from a small group of men who were smoking.  I could feel the effects immediately but sat there for the duration.  By the time I was a passenger for the ride home, I was trapped in that cataclysm of pain all over again.  The migraine was fierce and getting worse by the minute.  I had my answer.  Let the doubters doubt:  I wouldn't be putting myself through that again.

So, I can be talking with people about reactions to chemicals, and they've already assumed they needn't consider this possibility for themselves.  Of course, not everyone will turn up with patterns of reactions to this or that chemical!  But it's a very sad thing to fail to ask the question, to fail to look thoroughly for potential, distinct patterns of reactivity, and to rest content with vague, imprecise, and/or random reasons for the repeat bouts of the physical distress they've been experiencing.

This reluctance to consider sensitivity to chemicals can lie in another source of confusion:  Incomplete knowledge of the pervasiveness of the chemicals, their potential effects on the body, and the many places in which one can be exposed to them.

Let's say, for example, that you work in a factory.  Perhaps you're not immediately reacting to the production of a given metal in that factory, but it's possible that you could be reacting to a cleaner used throughout the building, or in the restrooms.

Another layer of confusion could be lurking within this assumption:  "I've never reacted to 'x' before, so I'm not reacting to it now."  But sensitization often happens gradually.  There can come a time when you begin to react to something that never bothered you before.

As a little girl and as a teenager, I'd go to hair salons -- sometimes for hours at a time -- with my mother.  I'd wait for her to get her hair done -- and sometimes I'd get mine done.  People "did this" in those days.  What did we know?  The hair stylists also smoked on the premises . . .  Talk about a chemical cocktail.  During one of my last times in a hair salon, I got a permanent (it turned out so badly I wore a cap for months that year).  I'm talking major chemicals here.  Me.  The up-and-coming chemically sensitive one.  I didn't get any headaches back then from visiting hair salons.  Nothing happened.  But within a year following that permanent, cigarette smoke began to become a problem.   

Now, granted, my chemical sensitivity is improving -- but if I were to sit in a hair salon for that length of time today (or any length of time at all),  I might end up in an ambulance.  Sensitization takes time, but when it happens, it really happens.

In conclusion, whenever I'm speaking to someone about chemical sensitivity, I've learned now that I'd best check for hidden premises, and hidden assumptions about sensitization to chemicals, on the part of the other person.  If I don't mentally check for these, our conversation could be very polite and thoughtful but invisibly sidetracked by layers of confusion underneath -- two different paradigms of understanding in unrecognized conflict.

Writing this piece has been a challenge, especially since I'm still recovering from a migraine which occurred yesterday.  I'm quite "foggy."  I hope this post makes enough sense for a few points to be gleaned.

Cheers!

~ Daisies 


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