Yes, it’s December and this is my first blog post of the year. I have lots of them floating around in my head, but I’ve had trouble getting them out into the world. I appreciate those of you who’ve checked on me to see what I’ve been doing instead of writing. Here are a handful of the reasons I’ve been missing from the blogosphere.
I wanted a better way to manage my email list and contact those of you who signed up to get notified when I publish a new post. (I’m very grateful for all of you and your interest!) Unfortunately, my brain is old and starting to balk at learning new things, especially when it comes to technology. I managed to get about 80 percent of my contacts imported into a new program, then it started glitching and I just didn’t have the patience to figure it out. Every time I thought about writing a post I would also think “but I have to figure out the email thing first.” I didn’t want to have to figure it out, so it became easier not to write. (And no, I still haven’t completely switched to the new system, but I’m going to write this post anyway.)
I’ve been experimenting with other ways to get my message across and trying to figure out what’s most effective. Besides writing this blog, I post short toxin-related news items on Facebook and X and I comment on other people’s posts when appropriate. I’ve kept up with those efforts a little better than I’ve kept up with the blog. I hope in 2024 I can manage to do both more consistently. I also contributed a chapter to a book on grace that was published this year.
I’ve been trying to free up more time to write by lowering the amount of maintenance chores in my life. I have a large yard and keeping up with it takes significant time and energy (and often means tick bites, which as a chronic Lyme disease sufferer I’d really prefer to avoid). I was determined that this would be the year that I’d finish turning all the weedy mulch nearest the house into easier-to-maintain hardscapes, so for the first part of the year, before the event I’ll talk about next, I pushed hard to get it done (while writing blog posts in my head). No, I didn’t meet that goal, either, but I made some good progress.
The biggest reason that I didn’t write much was that I spent a good portion of the year on the bottom rungs of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. As I mention in my book, the basics of food, clothing, and shelter are all hard to manage for people with chemical sensitivities, and shelter is probably the hardest domain to conquer for most of us.
What happened for me this time around is that the chimney flashing started to leak, a roofer came to repair it, and that set off an unfortunate chain of events. I’ll spare you the full story, but the short version is that I had pain and other symptoms that were significantly worse when I was in certain parts of the house. A little sleuthing led to the surprise discovery that there was a big gap above a duct that led from my living space into the attic, so attic air was freely flowing in. What I finally deduced was that the roof work must have stirred up some mold-laden dust (there was probably mold in the roof decking from the leak) and the spores and mycotoxins made their way into my breathing space.
Many people with chemical sensitivities are also very sensitive to mold. It's hard to describe, for people who aren’t highly reactive to it, how little exposure it takes to cause severe inflammation and how much cleaning goes into making a place tolerable again after a mold event. There are various names for the process in the mold community, but I’ve always called it ESI cleaning, which means “every square inch.” There are a lot of square inches in a home and all its contents, and sometimes the whole process has to be repeated multiple times. It probably seems ridiculous to people who can’t even see or sense the problem, but it’s what some of us have to do.
For a while I couldn’t sleep in the house safely, and my fear was that it might turn into a permanent situation, which happened in my previous home. I no longer have the campervan I slept in then, but I do have a screen room on the back of the house which I thought I could use for that purpose. Unfortunately, I discovered a roof leak and resultant mold in there, too, so that project got added to the list. It was a lot to do, especially given how bad I was feeling, and writing didn’t happen while I was focused on it. Anyway, I’m pain free and comfortably inside my house again and I’m grateful.
That’s my personal 2023 report. On the toxin front, my award for chemical of the year (really a group of related chemicals) goes to PFAS. At this point 15 state governments have pursued legal action against companies believed to be responsible for polluting the water and soil with it. I’m always curious about why any given toxin can be ignored for decades, then suddenly break into public consciousness. My guess is that this time it was the movie Dark Waters that did it. I think we need more movies about toxins.
Microplastics have also been getting a lot of attention. I would give them runner-up status. Sometimes people call PFAS “forever chemicals” and microplastics “everywhere chemicals.” As all chemicals do, they also interact. PFAS has been found in pesticides, which they pick up from the plastic containers they’re stored in.
If you’ve read all this and you’re interested in toxins and in my life, I’m truly grateful for you. Thanks for being with me on this journey. Stay tuned. My goal is to get one more post (that’s not about me) published before the year is over. We shall see . . .