Thursday, June 30, 2011

Another Close Call

I have so many of these that I hate to even talk about it. On the other hand, one of our (TIs) biggest heartbreaks is that we will die alone, in agony, and unnoticed. So for their sake, all the TIs That are isolated and alone, I will.

First you must understand that even though many have family, their condition is such, that it renders them emotionally isolated, as well as physically. I find this to be true, even though I know my family loves me and will be devastated when I die. These events occur so frequently, that they have developed a "she's crying wolf" attitude, because, I'm still alive. This forces me further into isolation. On the one hand what they see is that I didn't die, so they must, by human nature, think that I was exaggerating. On the other, to avoid the label of "wolf cryer" I must say nothing. Both sever communication. For us, it's a lose-lose situation. Not being able to talk about it is extremely un-healthy. For family and loved ones to chose to avoid talking about it is extremely painful to those of us that must endure it alone.

Yesterday's event was a culmination of 8 days of being imprisoned in my home due to a very volitile, toxic soup including Dicamba (drifts for 5-10 miles) and 2,4D (volatizes for 8 days on it's own) being sprayed on BT GMO Corn, less than a 1/2 mile up wind, which blows in every time the doors open. The hits are accumulative. I've struggled all week with massive lymphatic inflammation, tumors, nausea, dizziness, fevers, toxic encephalopathy... Basically, I was beat up and worked over pretty bad. I often compare the 'accummulative hit thing' to being set upon in an alley, by 14 different assailants, that came along over a period of time, added their blows, moved on, until finally, I die. There isn't anyway to know which blow killed me but, they'll all be guilty of murder.

Back to my current tale of woe. The inflammation and pain were so severe, I wasn't sleeping nights. All of this depletes glutathione. Eventually, I get so low that porphyria and apoptosis start happening. There are a several other symptoms, so it's often difficult to self diagnose just what needs to be addressed and how best to do it. You're probably wondering why I didn't just call my Dr.? There is no one good answer to toxic events. And, honestly, we're already using every tool in the box. I have the complete set. Dr. Smith is great, but he relies on me to tell him what we need to do in my case. Neither he, nor I, have any new ideas. Basically, if I don't know, no one does. When it gets to this level of injury, I know more than doctor Smith. I know way more than the traditional medical practitioners. That's the horrifying part. It's all on me. I'm already doing everything I can, and surviving pain that feels like your being torn apart by elephants, or about to rupture, is terrifying. I just flat don't know how I've survived it so far, and I'm terrified that the pain is going to get worse, and that I'm going to die. Since the difference between manageable pain and symptoms, and out of control, life threatening events happens in a nano second, well, it means I'm supposed to make that decision and take action in that same space of time. Or jump the gun. Back to 'over reacting' and 'crying wolf.' Needless to say, this is what all of us (the TIs) go through. Though many of them don't have the resources that I have. They just die. Many, that I've known, did.

So, the day started out 'not too bad.' I was dealing with it. It was very windy and some strange vapors of contaminants kept wafting by. My symptomology rose and I responded, trying to get it back under control. I fought that battle all day long. It started out, I could smell petroleum fumes coming in through Ryan's bathroom vent. But only occassionally. It's supposed to be filtered. It must need changing. I shut the door and blocked the bottom with a throw rug. Then I was picking up smells blowing out from under a wall, from under the house. The wind was blowing really hard! And remember, the more exposures, the more hyper-sensitive I get. The chest-cracking swelling in my lymphatic system was becoming unbearable, I went searching. I discovered 3 things that were putting me over the edge. 1. I was reacting to something on the dogs that they must have picked up some where, possibly when they were pottied that morning. I put them in their kennels, I couldn't get close enough to wash them. It would volatize right into my face. 2. When I took them to their kennels, I discovered something in that area was making my pain excruciating! My husbands fragrant clothes box was not completely closed. It had been leaking toxic fumes into my airspace all day. I closed it. 3. My husband's irrigation clothes were in the mechanical room and they reeked! Smelled pesticidey. I grabbed those and stuck them in the wash, and headed for the shower and sauna. I also tanked up on more vitamin supplements and lit non-toxic candles to burn off the fumes. Still too late. I escalated into full blown porphyria, my liver distended, my lymphs continued to enflamed and I started to melt down. That would be the apoptosis... Well, both arms still have marks, and I'm worried about my veins from too much sticking, so in the middle of grabbing supplies and trying to stay upright, I'm figuring out where and how I'm going to stick myself this time. And I want to break down and sob. I want to be able to call for help. But I can't. There isn't time, and they can't help me. EMTs would be toxic, as would the ER. My family members don't know how to give IVs and don't want to. I'm shaking and fumbling, and trying to remain calm, despite the unbearable pain behind my sternum, knifing across my right side and around my back to plunge like an ice pick into my spine, piercing into my arm pit, shooting up into my ear from my chest, and wrenching through my jaws causing me to pre-vomit salivate.

I decide to try the juncture vein in the back of my hand.I stick. A miss. Right into the cartilage, no blood. My eyes are losing focus, so I decide to stick the vein on the inside of the wrist. It's bigger. No time to wipe with alcohol now. I breathe in, fighting to concentrate, to see, to stay conscious. I force my self to stick carefully. I got it. Blood oozes up the tube. I uncap the end and wait -forever- for it to make it's slow crawl down it's 12" length. Finally, flushing heavily and breathing hard, I attach the syringe, draw up the air bubble and slowly depress the chilling fluid. I didn't have time to let it warm up. A moment of doubt assails me. Will it work this time? Fear. A moment or two more and the pain begins to ebb. I finish the the injection. The pain is still horrible but not excruciating. I pace in agony, I get ice packs. My liver is now the focus of the pain. Its distended to the size of a 6 mo. Pregnancy, ubove the waist. I chug more C. I move all the air purifiers to the dogs area and turn them on high, to try to suck off the fumes. I hit the sauna and shower again. Collapsing in them in exhaustion. I crawl out and pack myself in ice. I'm shaking so bad I can barely move.

When my daughter got home from work and washed the dogs, the symptoms began to drain away. By the time she finished her outside chores, Ron, my husband, had gotten home and the two went to run errands. When they finally returned, I'm just draped in my chair looking to them, lazy. No drama, no trauma for them to see.

Most people believe only what they see before their own eyes. My daughter, Alex, has never actually seen it. I can tell she thinks I'm exaggerating. It breaks my heart. When I call my husband, because I need comforting, following one of these events, he snarls at me,"what do you want me to do about it?" because he's seen it, it terrifies him and there isn't anything he can do. I feel pushed away. Isolated.

I've spoken to countless other TIs that have experienced the same kind of things. We are alone, isolated by our pain and suffering and the human capacity to understand only that which oneself has experienced. God bless those that possess a double portion of empathy and compassion that reach out and bridge the gap.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

I'm Sorry, I've Been Avoiding You

It wasn't intentional. It's just that I should probably continue my story, and well, I haven't been able to bring myself to review my diaries yet. It is so painful and traumatic that I get PTSD. In fact we just had a little calf born this weekend. My husband, Ron, informed me that it was born without one eye being completely developed. Since I know what pesticides and when they were applied on the BT corn up wind from us, and what they do to gestating fetuses, I pretty much know what happened. Brings back way too many bad memories of that time... I start shaking just thinking about it, this calf I mean. I lost a lot of animals, thru that next phase of the story and their deaths were horrific. Of course the vet told me that tests don't exist or you literally have to take the fat or liver sample the moment before they die, in order to have it run. Rather goulish, isn't it? Then you have to know what to look for. Back then, I didn't. The vet didn't even realize it was the pesticides, and didn't believe me until the "coincidences" began to stack up. Currently I'm on my 8th day of lock down from their spraying of Option, Status and Impact. It was supposed to be one of the first two and the Impact. It's the Status that's keeping me in. It contains Dicamba and 2,4-D. It's a highly toxic, volatile mix. 2,4-D volatizes for 5-8 days. I checked this morning. Apparently, the combination is longer. Dicamba is known to drift for 5-10 miles! I can't believe that this stuff is still legal. They know it's highly toxic and that it drifts for 10 miles, for 8 days, and they let everybody use it. I mean everybody. It's sold under 400 brand names and it's used extensively on lawns, golf courses and parks... Its also used to kill Mosquitos. So not only is it used to kill broadleaf weeds for crops, but in urban areas as well. And people wonder at the increase in chronic diseases world wide? They wonder why we see more incidences of rage? Sheesh!

Well, for the next little while, I'm just going to blog the usual stuff. I'll keep trying to get those journals read. I'm thinking I may give you the story in two parts: what happened to my livestock, then what happened to me. They happened at the same time, but I don't think I can handle reliving both at once.

Hope you have a great day. I'm still recovering from this latest spray event.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Spring Sprang Into Summer and I Was Very Nearly Unseated

Whew! What a busy time. Last I left you Ron had flown back to Indiana to help our daughter move back home and I was being stalked. The stalker was leaving cigarette butts which stopped a few days after Ron returned.

Since that time we've been working hard to get the addition completed so my daughter and her husband will have a home of their own to live in while she's working in the area. After all, who wants to live with their mother, or mother-in-law? My son-in-law, Justin hasn't been transferred yet, so he's still back in Indy. Just so you know, the addition is on the shop. Originally and eventually, it will be the office, workroom, barn laundry/restroom, kitchenettes and tack room. In the interim, for this short term job, it will make a nice, temporary "house." They will have a living room, bedroom, laundry/bathroom, kitchen and dining area. Is it completed? No. Still a long way to go. It's difficult when it's mostly just Ron doing the work. I can't anymore. The majority of its toxic, and it's spray season. I end up being locked inside a great deal of the time. I've been able to help occasionally, screwing siding on, standing walls, that kind of thing. But until Justin and Ryan get here, it's slow going.

Ryan comes home today. Finally, we have both children graduated from college! Ryan has several applications out. The economy is slow to recover. Ryan has several companies that want to hire him, just that until they pick up jobs, they can't afford to. In the meantime, he can work for us, both for the firm and on the farm. Hopefully we can get a bunch of stuff done before he gets an offer.

Amazingly, I still haven't got the sheep sheared yet! It's been wet and windy. It's at the top of my list. I don't think it's ever gone this long. I'm anxious to get it done so I can thin my herd. I need to get it more equitable for Ron. He shouldn't have to do 'my chores.'

Doing my IVs at home is helping quite bit. I'm definitely benefitting from not getting exposed at the Dr.s office. Hopefully this will be a great year of recovery.

Oh, and yesterday, there was another stupid cigarette butt. Obviously I'm spending too much time outside with the dogs, and having too much fun...