"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 

A Toxin Is a Toxin

Hello, Friends,

For a long time now, I've had a deep concern for those whose immune systems are compromised -- whether or not they are also chemically sensitive.  I dedicate the following thoughts to them.

If one were to take a chemically sensitive person's anecdotal reports in good faith, one would quickly realize that the chemically sensitive person has, in effect, "done the work for you."  What work?  The work of sorting out and identifying which types of chemical antagonists can spiral the body into further and unnecessarily hastened destruction.

Those whose immune systems are already compromised need, in reality, to be just as careful as the chemically sensitive to avoid exposure to chemical toxins whenever possible.  If the chemical exposures of an immune-compromised person cannot be completely eliminated, the maxim would be, "Every little bit of avoidance helps."  Just as "Every extra chemical exposure can worsen things."  It may not worsen things to an immediately noticeable extent; but under the surface, the body knows that a toxin is a toxin, and it reacts accordingly.

We chemically sensitive individuals know, vividly and viscerally, how these chemical antagonists operate.  Their "ways and means" have been demonstrated upon our bodies again and again.  Everything that a non-chemically sensitive, immune-compromised person cannot feel happening to his body from chemical exposures, we can feel for him.

Furthermore, certain drug and chemical treatments can actually bring the body closer to a chemically sensitive state.  Of course, it is completely understood that this may be either medically unavoidable or water already "under the bridge."  But since this possibility for chemical sensitization, or increased physical vulnerability, is the inevitable risk of any treatment which includes the heavy use of antibiotics, antivirals, chemotherapy, or painkillers, it becomes all the more important for the treated person to try and minimize unnecessary chemical exposures.

The very last thing I mean to do here is lecture a person who is already exhausted.  So, please, take what you like and leave the rest, as they say. 

What I do mean to do, however, is offer the heartfelt support of the chemically sensitive community to those who may suffer differently from us, yet who also desperately need the knowledge we happen to have accumulated.  

As the saying goes:  What's ours is yours.  :)

Cheers!

~ Daisies

"Daisies"

Hello, Friends,

The scary thing is that my fingers and toes feel nearly frostbitten even with the heat on (still running by generator after Hurricane Sandy) . . .   Repairs in progress before Hurricane Sandy have left us with less insulation, temporarily, than before.

The good thing is:  The air is totally fresh, crisp, and clean, smelling deliciously of black birch from the wood-burning boiler down below.

All of this has to do with my having fled our beloved, cozy little log cabin nine years ago next week, on a cold and blustery November morning -- gasping for air with lead-feeling limbs and jumbled coordination -- to avoid systemic collapse. There was a gaseous mixture in the house to which I'd apparently become highly sensitized -- and on November 13th, 2003, I'd reached my apex.

I would like, at some point, to highlight specific details of this experience for readers who would greatly benefit from knowing them.  I will save these details for a future post.  In the meantime, I will convey the basic logistics.

On the evening of November 13th, 2003, we landed here:  "here" being a highly organic, then-vacated home we'd owned but which my husband had been repairing at his leisure.  With this sudden, emergency relocation, any further thoughts of "leisure" or "spare time" flew out the window.  Our family was put on a new track.  We were now pioneers.  This house had been given ample time and opportunity to deteriorate while no one was living in it.

I never dreamed that, nine years later, we'd still be in "pioneer mode."

How easy is it for a toxically injured person to become homeless -- literally overnight (as I and my family would have been had we not had this "old faithful" living abode in the family)?  Easy.  Pathetically easy.  A mere snap of the fingers and -- voila! -- the old life is gone.  Just kiss it goodbye and don't waste any energy looking back.  There is no "back" to which one in this position can return.  All of the homes one might have chosen for oneself "in the old days," all of the friends' and relatives' homes which were once physically tolerable -- these are no longer options.  It truly is a metaphorical case of "Water, water everywhere -- and not a drop to drink." 

It's a cosmic revelation.  And no one on the outside will grieve with you.  I was told, basically, to "straighten up and fly right" and get my allergy shots already. There are no "allergy shots" for MCS.  An allergy is an excessive reaction of the body to a natural substance which the body would otherwise be expected to tolerate.  MCS, by contrast, is a reaction of the body to truly toxic substances of unnatural origin -- the body having been brought to an "overload" point where it can no longer "rebuff" or "shrug off" the insulting chemical toxins.  MCS, in short, is the body's (eventually visible and/or discernible) reaction to the presence of real poisons.

Moreover, there are no social supports for people who are poisoned in ways other than those that are commonly known, such as the carbon-monoxide way.  What drove me out of our log cabin did not seem to have been carbon-monoxide poisoning.  I was tested for that.  This made sense enough to me, because I was the only one in the family reduced to an emergency state.  I was also the one who cooked the most and the longest.  I had been cooking for hours on that fateful morning when I had to leave my home.  Please read on.

On the contrary, it seemed that I'd suffered from the personally disastrous interaction of (1) the combustion byproducts of natural gas and (2) other chemical contaminants lodged in the house's old carpet.  "Yours truly" had, most likely, become extremely sensitized to whatever chemical cocktail results from natural gas's benzene and toluene (during combustion) combining with old carpet-cleaner chemicals, potential pesticides used by previous owners, leftover products of cigarette smoke (known to me), and the residue of old, fragranced personal products -- plus the carpet chemicals and carpet backing, itself.  Never mind that we'd steamed the carpet immediately upon moving in.  Steaming won't remove cloying chemicals.  Furthermore, our boiler, dryer, and stove were all fueled by natural gas.

So, finally, the day came when I was physically unable to spend even one more minute under these conditions.

This history, friends, is part and parcel of your "Daisies."  Homelessness, I know full well, is always just a breath away.  

On the topic of "Daisies," I'd like to mention that my visual sense has been continually bothered by the plethora of words naming my icon.  So, please . . . just call me "Daisies."  I'm "Daisies," and I clean many things with distilled white vinegar.  The image of white, sunny, open-faced daisies in a field is the closest my mind's eye can come, visually, to what this chemically-sensitive nature of mine craves.  And vinegar is such a lovely, hardy, versatile, and sweet-smelling liquid (to me)!  I find distilled white vinegar to be a very pleasant and enjoyable substance, especially when I pour it on a cloth and wave it in the air to banish bad natural and/or chemical smells.  It works quickly that way.  I have a friend to thank for that stroke of genius.  It sounded comical until I actually tried it.  Now, I keep a cloth hanging in a strategic place so that, if needed, I can pour distilled white vinegar on it and wave it around.  My children find this hysterical.

Cheers!  :)

~ Daisies (!)

9/11: A Remembrance; and a Thanksgiving for First Responders

Dear Friends,

I post the following link in memory of all those who perished on 9/11/2001 -- and in gratitude to those who risked their lives to save others in the burning, heaving, crumbling Towers that day . . . some of whom can be seen on this video.

I urge you, please, to take 15 minutes to watch this, if you haven't already:

"Multiple Chemical Sensitivity: A Short Introduction" (features toxically injured 9/11 first responders, among others)

May God rest the souls of those who died in the 9/11 attacks.  May God protect and help those who mourn them -- and those first responders and all others now suffering toxic injury as a result of the toxic fumes.

Sincerely,

Carolyn

*P.S.  For those who are interested, see also my first post regarding this video:  A Favorite Film.

After the Storm

Sometimes, one just has to wait for some fresh winds to blow through.  I waited.  The winds came tonight, with a forbidding sky and thunderous weather, graced afterwards by a rainbow.  I'm now ready to write.

I'm thinking about alcohol toxicity.  Alcohol toxicity is a dense and variable subject, as it can involve several forms of toxicity, some of which can occur sooner than others. 

Am I against the judicious imbibing of alcohol, on principle?  No.  In this post I simply hope to raise some questions that one can ask oneself along the way.  I claim no definitive answers on this extremely complex topic.  I do think, however, that it's a topic worthy of much serious consideration for those who are chemically sensitive and those who are at risk of becoming so.

There are those of us who already know that we're chemically sensitive.  We need to be fully aware of what can lurk in a typical social drink.  For those who have had noteworthy chemical exposures of one sort or another but who, as of yet, observe no distinct onset of chemical sensitivity in themselves:  It's still possible that, due to your chemical exposure(s), your reactions to alcoholic beverages may undergo some changes.  As the saying goes, "Forewarned is forearmed."       

Beer has been touted for its Vitamin B content.  Red wine has been touted for its antioxidant properties.

On the negative side, beer and wine can contain additives/allergens and outright toxins:

"Hidden Additives in Beer and Wine" by Drea Knufken - Living Without Magazine June/July 2008

These toxins are a distinct liability for those who are chemically sensitive and allergically reactive (this can accompany chemical sensitivity).

Then, there is another type of alcohol toxicity whereby a person simply imbibes far too much for his own body's tolerance on a given day and actually poisons himself by sheer quantity:

"Alcohol Poisoning Symptoms" (Alcoholism Information)

This is a medical emergency.  It's always possible that such a person might also have had a budding chemical sensitivity or previously unknown allergies.  These things would only add to the nightmarish toxicity of such an occasion.

I wonder, often, if chemical sensitivity, in its "masked" phase, actually draws some (self-defined) alcoholics to drink excessively in the same way that food sensitivities often cause a craving for the sensitivity-inducing food.  If one's chemical sensitivity is also accompanied by food sensitivities and allergies, the craving for alcoholic beverages might be all the more strong.

There are those who have "gone without" alcohol for decades and suddenly take up drinking again, with often disastrous results.  Perhaps this insidious "progression," this apparent worsening of the alcoholism even during long years of abstinence, is at least partly due to the pervasiveness of chemical exposures in our midst -- which, of course, accumulate steadily in our bodies the longer we live.  The increase in the body's absorption of daily "common" chemicals could easily account for the worsened effects of alcohol -- even after years of abstinence -- upon the body and mind.  These chemicals in our midst are stored in our tissues and organs.  This puts increasing burdens upon the liver and kidneys as they attempt to detoxify our bodies.  Add a little alcohol and the results can be increasingly devastating.

My own chemical sensitivity once caused a horrendous internal reaction to a simple glass of white wine within minutes of my finishing it -- as though an angry hand had taken hold of my thoughts and emotions and made them extra, extra strong.  No one could see the reaction on the outside, thankfully.  But on the inside, a nightmare was brewing from which no one could deliver me.  And I was stuck with it raging inside my head.  I was aware enough to know that I had to try to step above it, to manage it, somehow.  Obviously, something totally unforeseen and "alien" to me had occurred.  This I was not expecting.  It hit me like a freight train.  Such a thing had never happened to me before, in the "old" days before I was chemically sensitive. 

As the alcohol left my body over the next few hours, the reaction completely dissipated and I sobbed out the remainder of it through my tears.  From that point on, I only "sipped" tastes of such beverages.  I never want to go through such a frightful experience again.  Was this a reaction to sulfites?  Was there an unknown additive in the wine?  Had the grapes undergone pesticide treatment?  Or was it my body's nearly inept processing of the alcohol, itself?

I will never know.  My liver and kidneys, however, apparently know much more than I do.  I believe it could be a deadly mistake to let their knowledge get too far ahead of mine.  I must at least consider what factors might possibly have gone into such an unfavorable experience with alcohol.  In doing so, I hope to spare another person such an experience -- or worse.

"Forewarned is forearmed."

Wishing you healthy food and drink and safe socializing --

Cheers!

~ Carolyn

A Walking "Echo"

Greetings to you on this sultry (U.S.) Saturday morning!

You know, I've long been fascinated by the five senses.

I refer now and then to such things as having "a nose like a bloodhound," or a "bionic nose."  By this, I mean that a chemically sensitive person often develops an extremely heightened sense of smell.  Conversely, toxic injury can also cause the sense of smell to decrease.  In my own case, the sense of smell has increased exponentially.  I was not born this way.  The physical, sensory difference between "now" and "then" is staggering, approaching the mind-bending quality of science fiction.

Having loved perfumes/colognes as a child and young lady, I now smell more of the base chemicals and less of the fragrances.  Or, the base chemicals intertwine with the intended scent and cheapen it for me.  I perceive, or even remember precisely in some cases, exactly where the scent is "going" -- but for me, it no longer "gets there."

Finally, when I'm around some fragrances and most hair treatments (hair sprays/gels/dyes), I smell only the chemical base.  It's most peculiar to find myself at a gathering where another woman mentions, for instance, that she's wearing her "favorite fragrance"  -- and the fragrance happens to make me gasp with horror because, to me, it smells like ammonia or a pesticide.  In such cases, physical instinct (the way my face starts to feel instantly) screams at me to move far, far away.  But sometimes I can't get "far, far away."  This leaves me conversing and honing my acting abilities at the same time.

If only I could make a movie to convey the feelings of incredulousness and absurdity that come over me on such occasions!  To do this, I'd have to film an actress spraying disinfectant on her hair, dabbing on some wasp repellent for "fragrance," then going forth to greet her guests with a smile . . . . .  I kid you not.  Despite my knowledge that base chemicals, for me, can blot out the intended signature scent, I have still found myself puzzling, on more than one occasion, as to why this or that lovely lady would have chosen to wear a fragrance that smelled exactly like a tub-and-tile cleaner.

Moving on to synthetic laundry fragrances -- these are the most vitriolic to me.  I can tolerate many perfumes/colognes without excessive amounts of residual damage afterwards; but synthetic laundry fragrances just make my head spin.  They are incredibly powerful and far-reaching.  I catch them in the air even while driving in my car.  They can cover large expanses of road when emanating from dryer vents.  Some of them penetrate even the closed air vents of the car, in which case I try to inhale as few times as possible, hoping never to get stuck in such a place.  ("Such a place," mind you, being an ordinary neighborhood of homes with dryer vents.  The very simplicity and unavoidable frequency of such venues -- so innocuous in all other ways -- only increases the peril.)  Synthetic laundry scents have a caustic, burning, "peppery" quality.  I can describe them this way because along with the heightened sense of smell comes a sense of the "texture" of the molecules.  Many times I can taste the smell, as well.   

Removing myself from the polluted venue is the first step; however, there is yet another effect of an amplified sense of smell:  The chemical scent remains in the nose, at times, for hours or days after exposure.  

In short, the chemically sensitive person can become a walking "echo" of the synthetic scents to which he has recently been exposed.

To give yet another example of this physiological "echo," the neurotoxins (nerve toxins) in synthetic laundry fragrances, non-organic dry-cleaning solutions, and chlorine can have jarring reverberations on the central nervous system.  They can turn the usual operations of the nervous system "up" to a higher (and discomfiting) degree as though generating continual low-level seizures throughout the body.  I, myself, begin to experience a strong pulse over my nose and a vibration, or "buzzing," of this same pulse throughout my body -- as though someone had plugged me into an electrical socket.  I then feel physically shaky inside, with a bodily tremor not visible to others.  I, however, perceive a slight shaking of my hands when I go to grasp or arrange objects.  Playing the piano, setting the table, coordinating steps of activities either mentally or physically -- these things become neurologically and cognitively challenging.  My vision, also, begins to shake up and down rapidly, with some blurring; and my central nervous system feels "all revved up." 

It should frighten me, but it doesn't.  I'm too used to it.  At the same time, I begin to feel slightly "drunk" and sleepy (a heightened pulse beneath stupefying fatigue), so any thoughts of apprehension don't have the energy to persist, anyway.  

I appreciate, however, how such complications could worsen in the future.  As the "canary in the coal mine," I can report to you that the toxins in these products are severe, indeed -- and perhaps just as severe, later on, to those who cannot feel their "echo" as I do and who therefore immerse themselves in them as a way of life -- eventually developing cancer or Parkinson's or some other progressive, devastating disorder.  It is my firm belief that the role of pervasive common chemicals is not appreciated in the etiology of these life-threatening developments.

I've touched upon smell, sight, taste, and the "texture" of synthetic-scent molecules -- but what of the sense of hearing?  This, too, has become more acute for me in my toxically injured state.  Is this, then, also connected to the phenomenon of chemical sensitivity?  I honestly do not know.  I know only that I often have to cover at least one ear at social gatherings which include amplified music, if I get too close to the source of the sound.

If you look at all of this through a different lens, it begins to approach some of the heightened sensory experiences of the autistic person -- or, more scientifically stated, of what is presently called "autism" in many persons who happen also to experience such things (in addition to cognitive, speech, and other physiological differences).

I strongly suspect that there is much uncultivated ground between the topics of toxic injury and at least some of the physiological phenomena which occur under the umbrella of "autism" . . . with possibly some related causal factors behind each.

I've explained these peculiar sensory developments, above, in order to shorten the process of identification for those who might be becoming chemically sensitive.  So many aspects of functioning can be affected by chemical sensitivity; if you chase down each symptom, you still might not find any answer beyond the obvious categorizing of each symptom into a medically recognized disorder or two.  These medical disorders might, in fact, be real -- but are the triggers, or causes, of the disorders properly appreciated?  If they are not recognized and appreciated, then the understanding of the disorders is compromised:  Their occurrence and progression will appear to be more random than they really are.  If you never recognize that you're reacting to chemicals (in those cases when you actually are), then how can you defend your body against the effects of their repeated assaults?

If one's sense of smell is beginning to increase in the strange and noticeable ways described above, this could be a red flag alerting one to the possibility of chemical exposures as a cause.  Other things, of course, can contribute to an altered sense of smell.  The implications of such other causes can be serious.  Tracking one's own chemical exposures and (possible) follow-up symptoms, however, is a simple and completely cost-free way to begin digging for causes.  This "tool" is available to everyone immediately.  The window of heightened symptoms generally occurs, in my own case, anywhere between a few minutes to two days after exposure to a triggering chemical.

Tracking chemical exposures and symptoms is neither convenient nor fun.  Still, I would be remiss if I did not suggest it as a way to gain valuable -- and perhaps life-prolonging -- information.  The next step would be to educate oneself as thoroughly as possible on the potentially "triggering" chemicals present in many common products.  Please make liberal use of the information tabs, above.  I am always searching for new pieces of research and anecdotal reporting to add to these link lists.

In the meantime, cheers (!) and a comfortably cool weekend to you --

~ Carolyn 

Words of Gold

Hello, friends,

Recently I've been marveling, with tremendous gratitude, at the ability of certain medical professionals who do not have toxic injury to "get in the shoes of" those who do.  When these doctors explain toxic injury/MCS to people in recorded interviews, they succeed perfectly in capturing the nuances of that peculiar new sensitivity to chemical odors experienced by the toxically injured.  These doctors are careful to note, for the listening public, that this is not a mere matter of "disliking" or of "being bothered by" chemical odors.  They explain that it is rather a matter of our reacting "physically unpleasantly" and "becoming symptomatic."

To experience these quotes in the context in which they were made, please view the following video or read the accompany transcript (which seems to contain less text than quoted in the video):  "Multiple Chemical Sensitivity: A Short Introduction" (provided by The Chemical Sensitivity Foundation).

These words of concrete understanding, at the medical level, are gold to a person who's been toxically injured. 

It is precisely this type of "in your shoes" understanding that I hope to promote through this blog.  Only those who understand the true nature of this affliction will be in a position to warn the toxically injured to avoid, whenever possible, further exposures to "irritant chemicals" -- to avoid an escalation of symptoms, permanent physical damage, and the spreading of their chemical reactivity to other chemicals.

Here I need to return briefly to a very fine and critical point:  I mentioned, a few essays back ("A Difficult Topic"), the claims of some toxically injured people to have succeeded in desensitizing themselves to most significant chemical reactions by channeling new thought patterns through particular parts of their brains.  If a toxically injured person is truly healed through this type of treatment or by a thorough process of physical detoxification (as per the protocols at the William Rea center in Texas and other centers which implement detoxification), that is one thing.  For those who are not healed of their chemical sensitivity and are still symptomatic, avoidance of further exposures to irritant chemicals (to whatever extent possible) is crucial to avoid further systemic damage.  And even those who are healed of their chemical sensitivity would be advised to avoid exposing themselves to chemicals which could begin the process all over again.

I recently experienced, myself, another long-winded reaction to an unknown but very strong and pervasive outdoor chemical, compounded by other "ordinary" chemical cleaners and/or synthetically scented laundry products.  Last weekend, I found myself having to locate my car in a parking lot suddenly filled with a chemical in the air which had not been there at all when I arrived.  The next morning, I had an additional exposure to a chemical in an office which carried a chemical fragrance strong enough to permeate my clothes within an hour.   By Saturday afternoon, I was developing what I'd have to call "nerve rashes" at various points on my face -- red, raised spots, sharply demarcated by lines in places, almost like little triangles, accompanied by nerve tingling in those places as though I'd just had novocaine which was now wearing off.  The rashes and tingling recurred several times over this past week, decreasing in intensity and frequency as the week went on.

I could have easily attributed these reactions to several different food allergies.  However, when the chemical reaction had finally spent itself and I returned to each potentially allergenic food as usual, there were no symptoms whatsoever.  Imagine if I'd known nothing about toxic injury and had hauled myself off to an allergist this past week, with all of the typical, accompanying office chemicals!

This, in fact, is exactly the kind of thing I did 20-something years ago, resulting in innumerable doctor visits for innumerable symptoms and in repeated social accusations, as a result, that I was a malingerer or avoiding others (I was avoiding their fragrances) out of some inherent negativity in my heart.  The emotional toll this disbelief and misunderstanding took on me was severe.  Not to mention the fact that not a single one of those doctors was able to help me one bit.  And so I languished for periods of years in this ever-worsening cascade of symptoms.  I know, now, that I am far from alone in this experience.  I was not Internet-savvy in the 1990's, nor was I able to write, due to the state of continual devastation I was in.

Another key point I wish to mention is that, during this past week as I detoxified from whatever chemicals I'd been exposed to last weekend, the effect of the chemicals on my emotions was particularly strong.  By this sign, along with the "nerve rashes," I can now gauge, for myself, the severity of the chemical exposure.  Whatever this combination of chemicals was, it was very bad.  I'm now recalling, also, that beginning last Sunday was a two-day migraine which required many doses of ibuprofen just to get me through to Tuesday.  The migraine continued to pound beneath each ibuprofen I took.  Such "whopper" migraines are, of course, another red flag that certain chemicals have affected me more severely than "usual."

Emotions are not scientifically measurable, and there are things in everyone's life which can potentially cause them varying degrees of sorrow.  However, I have found that chemicals will take a fairly manageable sorrow or source of mental/emotional distress and intensify it internally.  When the chemicals wear off, I'm able to experience the sorrow or other distress in its "true size" and begin to move on.  This has occurred enough times over the years for me to discern the pattern.

All of this being the case, I wish to extend my written thanks to those medical professionals (some of whom I quoted loosely by memory, above), for all of their work toward understanding, speaking about, and seeking treatments for toxic injury:

William Meggs, M.D., Ph.D. - Brody School of Medicine, North Carolina

Claudia Miller, M.D. - University of Texas Health Sciences Center, San Antonio, Texas

Lt. Gen. Ronald R. Blank - former U.S. Army Surgeon General and former Commander, Walter Reed Medical Center

Christine Oliver, M.D. -  Assistant Clinical Professor, Harvard Medical School

Stephen Levine, M.D. - Director, Mount Sinai Occupational and Environmental Clinic

Cheers!

~ Carolyn

One of Many

Hello, friends!

As I do my daily research for this blog, I'm increasingly astounded by the vast amount of highly valuable and accurate information multiplying on the Internet about chemical toxins and MCS.  In this way, I'm now "meeting" more and more of my MCS-afflicted brothers and sisters.  Your beautifully designed websites and blogs should, indeed, be read by all.  Not to mention the video documentaries of caring, highly educated experts and laymen in the field of environmental medicine and science!  I'm deeply moved by the honesty, energy, and dedication already being put into the cause of boosting chemical-injury awareness.  I'm honored to be able to add my one small voice to all of yours. 

Consequently, I've been cramming as much useful information as I possibly can into my sidebar and tabs.  I'm now learning how to incorporate hyperlinks into text and how best to make and shape a blog from the strictly technical end.  I'm also wrestling, at present, with one or two gadget glitches awaiting remediation.  I have much to learn.

But thanks to all of you MCS writers, experts, scientists, and filmmakers, I find I'm cringing inside a little bit less these days as I approach others to describe what chemicals I know I must avoid.  I'm realizing that I'm most definitely not alone in my chemical sensitivity.  The similar patterns of my reactions to chemicals and those of other MCS sufferers are becoming clear, familiar, and predictable.  Furthermore, I'm realizing that many of us MCS writers are gravitating toward the same experts and the same scientists as we search for ways to communicate to others the dangers of many common chemicals.

The subject of pesticides is particularly horrifying to me, especially in regard to children.  For all I know, pesticides could be a huge part of my own chemical-sensitization history.  Lawns, parks -- who knows?  I couldn't possibly trace it now.  Dryer vent emissions and lawn treatments really send me for a whirl; and these two contaminants often become very difficult to separate, in causality, when I'm walking through a typical suburban or more rural neighborhood.  I do recall, however, that some form of weed-killer made me suddenly very dizzy as I walked alongside trick-or-treaters one Halloween night (a man had been applying it as I walked by -- that was an easy thing to see, for once).  It was difficult to continue walking and I had to stop shortly thereafter.  Dryer-vent emissions have repeatedly given me serious chest pain, the type of pain that also accompanies a severe bout of supraventricular tachycardia -- a deepening, sickening ache that fills the entire chest cavity and can filter into the back.  It increases in scope and pressure if one doesn't remove oneself from the location, making one expect a heart attack at any moment.  It's almost impossible to continue walking with such mounting pressure within.

The more I read and view on the subject of chemical injury, the more I realize that what I'm learning is just the tip of a massive iceberg.  

The chemical-injury stories and backup data are just pouring in from all directions.  The most responsible thing we can do with this information is to take it, read it, and learn from it.  Now.  

Cheers!

~ Carolyn  

Looking Forward to Hearing from You!

Hello, Friends!

I'd just like to take a moment to urge you to contribute your own comments to my blog -- and your own thoughts in reference to the articles/research pieces I've linked to that are most relevant to you, personally.  You don't need to "sign in" first or type out any letter code.  And there is no one "favored" subtopic here.  I did, however, put HOMELESSNESS in capital letters, up top, because so many of us MCS sufferers have already faced, are presently facing, or might face in the future the actual or potential reality of homelessness.

Also, if you support my effort, via this blog, to increase public awareness of the growing scourge of MCS, I ask you, please, to join this blog as a "Follower."

It would be very interesting to know what your own primary MCS triggering substances are, and what your own experience has been in your attempts to explain your MCS to others.

I am no medical specialist -- just a layperson suffering and coping for years with MCS.  Neither my own words nor my links are meant to replace the diagnosis, philosophy, advice, diet, treatment, or prescribed medications of anyone's doctor(s).  Nor do my links imply that I agree with every single idea of every single author to whom I link.  I am simply following a "general" line of informational relevance in each link I choose.

I provide, here, links to the best pieces I can both locate and link to successfully on the Web.  I choose them according to my own personal experience and observation -- which in the end must be termed largely "anecdotal."   Still, I believe there is a distinct "logic" to our individual MCS anecdotes and to our predictable systemic reactions.  I hope to bring these predictable patterns to the attention of scientific minds who can concretely pursue the more detailed questions these patterns raise.  May these logical patterns of MCS reactivity reveal themselves in my own writing, in your comments/stories, and in the links I can manage to provide.

Also, I wish to state that part of my job, as I see it, is to provide "apologetics" backup for those who are having difficulty getting the MCS message across to others in their midst.  The word "apologetics" does not mean "an apology" but rather the effort to defend, logically, a premise or cause.  I am attempting, therefore, to provide the best "defense" for the reality of MCS that I can.  Your own ideas for the apologetics of "explaining MCS" are most welcome!

Hoping to hear from you soon!  Cheers!  

~ Carolyn

Hello, Again!

Hello, again, friends . . .

Has it really been that long?

My overall health took a wallop beginning in July -- during which time the bouts of chemical sensitivity felt all the worse.  Sadly, I was not able to dedicate the focused concentration necessary to maintain and grow this site.

But Spring is in the air early (!), and I take that as a hopeful sign that, perhaps, I can redirect my health back toward sunshine again and start digging up more useful links with which to educate the public about the hidden menace of chemical sensitization -- the blooming of reactions to many similarly-based chemicals in succession.

I begin again today.

Cheers!  Wishing you increased stamina and wellness,

~ Carolyn