Friday, June 2, 2017
Rough night. Tobacco man isn't using organic tobacco. Coughed most of the night. Hurt all over. I was cold. I had to run the generator/heater at 1:30 a.m. Woke up this morning with chemical burns. Still coughing out lung congestion. Really dragging. Curse that creepy stalker!
Ron, Joey and Toby called on their way to daycare. The boys were not happy about having to go. They wanted to stay home with Poppa, or go to Grandma's house, or "Grandma Mountain." We talked about their visit and the things they and Daisy did here. Too soon they were at daycare.
I took Rosie out to potty after that. I remembered to take my camera this morning. I wanted to get a pic of this cool pine tree bloom.
Isn't that something? I've never seen one before!
Waiting for Ron to call back with the offer details...
Ow! Ugh! Whine!
Around noon, as I'm sitting there by the open windows knitting I hear, "Moo." It was a close by moo, not the distant moos I'd heard earlier as a cattle truck went by on the road. I peer out through the trees and see cows. I grab my cell and go outside and call Roger. I ask him if he knows anything about a lease deal with cows? There appear to be 20-30 pairs. I take about 50 steps t'ward the herd, they are about 300' away and coming on, when the chemical smell engulfs me! Insecticide. Roger hangs up to make some calls as I do an about face and race for shelter. Rosie and I bale into the RV and shut everything down. I call Ron to see if there is any mention of a lease for grazing in the counter offer paperwork. "No. Get out of there!" I dash back out and toss the remaining items into the basement bins. My chair, my drying yarn. Then jump back inside and lock everything down. I'm injured. My throat feels like its been knifed. Roger calls me back, neither the listing agent, nor the executor know anything about cows being there. Roger tells me to leave. I tell him I'm already packing up but I can't get out to open the gate. He says he can be up here at 3:00 p.m. to let me out. I start medicating. Roger and the executor are making calls. Eventually its discovered that there was a miscommunication and one of the relatives thought it was o.k. to put their cows here. There are calls going back and forth all over the place. Ron calling me, calling Roger, Roger talking to one of the other family members who's talking to the cattle rancher. Then there's the calls back to me by both Ron and Roger and "What do you want them to do about ______?" Ron's anxious about wether to stay put or come... I tell him to "Hold off." I drive to the gate and wait for Roger. Eventually I end up parked along side the road, some distance away, spiraling into the pit. We told Roger to pass along the message to the rancher to dump his next load of cows on the 80 acres south of the road. He let Roger know he'd round up the ones he let out on the piece I was staying on ASAP, in the next day or two, and move them in with the others on the south 80. Ron offered to help round them up. Roger made sure to tell me that it was just a miscommunication. I assured him I wasn't "angry at them," this stuff happens all the time because people just don't know its a problem for me.
I'm sick, nauseous, have encephalopathy, lymphadenopathy, fibro-flare, chills, raw throat, the shakes and sharp stomach pains. And Rosie had a tick so my skin is crawling. (Though I'm getting more accustomed to dealing with the little fiends. Removed that one with my bare fingers between bouts of nausea.) I'd like to cry but it would take too much energy. I just want to curl up in the fetal position and pass out. My face feels like its made of heavy clay and is sagging. I'm going to have to potty and feed Rosie pretty soon but I just don't have the strength.
For awhile there I was ready to end the whole deal. I don't know when it will be safe to go back. My beautiful pristine, safe place is contaminated. 😫 😤 😡 I held my tongue about it. I need to get past the panicked, reaction stage before I say anything. I need to think things through.
I did find out what the contingencies were on the counter offer, and Ron had made some changes and sent them back to Roger. Basically they were putting the responsibility for any existing chemical contamination, D.E.Q. requirements of remediation on same,etc. on us, which we'd have to check with Co. Planning and various offices during the business week to find out if there were any. Ron came back with 'that any easements or accesses by any others discovered would be a deal breaker, and it must be a build-able lot, or that voids the deal as well, with no penalty on us' (we'd get our ernest money back). They'd marketed it as a build-able lot. But, just to be sure, Ron's checking. Roger, when I spoke to him next, confirmed that it was still going forward. I held my tongue.
Saturday, June 3, 2017
I woke up. Thats the first blessing of the day. I did not want to get this close to solving my major issues, just to expire! That was at 5:00 a.m.. It took me an hour to gather the strength to get up and turn on the generator/heat. It had been a hard night. I remember being awoken in the full dark by searing chest pain with lancing hot pain shooting into my right ear and arm pit. It was so painful it paralyzed me. I remember thinking, "What do I do for this?" And not coming up with an answer. My mind churned, supercharged by adrenaline, like an overloaded engine about to throw a piston rod. It felt like an eternity but in reality it was nano seconds before, "Eventually" I thought, "Maybe if I cough..." I tried. My diaphragm was mostly paralyzed. That's when I realized I could barely breathe. I could feel snot building up, blocking what little wisps of air I could manage to move. I fought the panic. "O' God! This is why chemical exposures make me crazy!" Especially insecticides. I never know when they'll cause this! I've had this before. I fought against the pain, paralysis and terror. I hung on desperately to survive. Finally the chest pain started to ebb. I kept struggling to breathe, to produce a cough, to move the thick, sticky mucus that was blocking my airway. I know it couldn't have been that long, but it felt like forever. Finally the paralysis eased up as well. I was able to cough weakly, then stronger. I was up for a while coughing up the pooled, gelatinous snot from my lungs. Then I collapsed into unconsciousness again.
This morning my chest is sore. My muscles flaccid, weak. My eyes feel abraded as though they'd been sanded with 60 grit sandpaper. The glands in my jaw, arm pits and back: painful. But I did wake up. Thats a blessing. My skin's still crawling, so its not the thought of ticks; its the chemical. I noticed a number of facciculations. I managed coffee, Rosie's breakfast and my hair. In a moment I'll turn her out, on the long lead, to potty. Then I'm going back to bed.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
Yesterday was rough and painful. I'm saving you having to hear the whining, griping and moaning by not writing about it. This exposure has made me highly emotional.
Roger did call to let me know they were moving the cattle Sunday (today). I'm thinking about not returning to the property for a week. I'm guessing they'll use ATVs and its going to get lots of exhaust (in addition to the insecticide) and pretty torn up. It also rained hard yesterday evening. Which means some of the insecticide was washed off the cattle and onto the plants and into the soil and water. I may be parked along the road somewhere for a while.
Ron is coming today. Besides supplies, we're intending to sign the counter offer. I was looking forward to this being a celebration day. Now... I'm having a hard time with it. Eventually it should be back to being safe. I don't know when that will be, and I'll be hurt every time I "check." Its marred the day. Its like the big black grease hand print that Ron put on my wedding dress the day we got married. We left the church in a horse drawn carriage. The driver said, "Don't touch the rim of the wheel. I greased it." His statement must have gone totally over Ron's head. Ron used the rim to pull himself into the carriage and then grabbed my leg with the same hand to balance himself as he climbed in, across me. Ruined the dress. Oh, I carefully concealed the stain so no one else knew, when we arrived at the reception. I quickly changed into my honeymoon outfit, but the damage was done. I never said anything to Ron, I sucked it up and focused on what was more important.
I'm trying to wrangle myself into the appropriate mood to deal with this. Shouldn't I do the same in this incident as I did with the stain? The emotional part of me wants to kick, scream and have a 7 year old type tantrum, "It's ruined! R-U-I-N-E-D!!!!!!!😫😫😫 Waaaah!" But what good will that do? I need to act like a practical adult. Its hard from the bottom of the pit... Sucking it up. Sucking hard, like a Wendy's milkshake.
When I took Rosie out this morning I realized its a little bit toxic here. Several of my symptoms escalated: ear, gut and skin pain. Lymphs too. I didn't notice it before because pain is gated. A body can only deal with so many painful things. It takes notice of the most painful and "shelves" the rest. Prioritizing. Since the initial 'most painful things' were resolving, the other things became noticeable. Can't come back here.
Just had an older model, dark blue truck stop behind us in the middle of the road. He sat there for a few minutes, then rushed by. Don't know what thats about. I had one guy in an older model silver SUV honk real loud and long as he went by on the cross road yesterday evening and a late 20s or early 30s, thin, white guy, brown hair, smoker, in a shiney new white truck, with chrome, gun his engine as he drove right by us and down the road a piece. I'm irritating them somehow.
I've showered, done the dishes and put most of the stuff away. Feeling better. Only a couple of inches of water left in the tank. Squeaking by this week. Now I'm just waiting on Ron.
Tanks refilled, supplies restocked. Counter offer signed. Ron headed off to meet with Roger to hand it over. I relocated further up the road. Hopefully I won't be here too long, or have any trouble. Maybe I was parked in their gun range. I saw some spent cartridges and pop cans set up on some stumps. Right before I left for water a couple of women parked their truck and horse trailer right in front of me. They off loaded their horses, tacked them up, and went for a ride. They were just getting ready to pull out when I returned. Not 5 minutes after we got up here I heard shooting back at the bottom of the road.
I wanted to share my good news with a couple of good friends... Everyone was busy. So its you and me at the party. Yay! Woohoo! Four long years of searching, and I've done it. I've found a piece of property that meets my needs and we've signed the contract. A set back, with the cows, true, but eventually the pesticide will degrade.
I got news from Ron about my Dad's mental state as well. He's deteriorating. I'd spoken to his wife earlier. She'd asked me if I was aware that "Every 66 seconds, in this country, someone is diagnosed with dementia." I wasn't. "Its an epidemic." She said. I thought, but did not say, "Its our toxic life styles." Our country needs to wake up and stop poisoning themselves.