Sorry to have been so absent, but I have recently joined a discussion group based on the book, The Faith Club.
But, because a lot of people access my blog because of my problems with mold, I thought I would update with a little critical information.
First, I noticed that my hepa filter machine was contaminating the air in my room. Thinking that it must be the filter had gone bad after only three months, I bought a new one. But it didn't do any good. On closer examination with my trusty black light which reveals fungus, I found that the interior of the machine was contaminated. Naturally, I removed the air filter and examined it from the front, the area where the air would come through the filter, but there was very little contamination between the filter and the fan. After reassembling it, I began examining the outside of the machine. I found that all the seams around it indicated a small amount of air seepage, i.e., the seams glowed. But what was shocking was when I turned it around and examined the back, the manufacturer has put holes in the back so the unit can be hung on the wall. These little hook shaped holes were filled with dirt, dust and, yes, fungus. I took Q-tips and pulled out at least a teaspoon of contaminants from each hole. What the manufacturer hasn't done or even attempted to do is to maintain the integrity of the machine. Once cleaned, I could see that the Styrofoam insulation for the fan housing is completely open and exposed there allowing contaminates to work their way into the fan itself.
I began by trying to contact the company. They obviously don't care. Then I went to research hepa filters and I found that this is a known issue. I found good information on hepa filteration at The Allergy Buyers Club. Look below the air filters for a list of articles on air filtration and what all of us need to know.
As far as I'm concerned, even if I didn't have extreme allergies, I wouldn't want a machine that would allow dangerous and allergy causing contaminants into my room even if I were trying to just have better air. For those of us who suffer extreme allergies an industry wide rating system needs to be instituted. Machine need to be rated several different ways. Some are better for some types of contaminants than others, for example. More importantly because this little machine did do a superb job for about three months, the rating needs to be established after the machines have been in use for a period of time. In short, it matters not a wit that a machine is rated by the manufacturer to clean 99.97% of all contaminants from the air!
In short all that I had spent on that little machine is a waste of money! Now I need to find another air purifier/sanitizer and probably spend quite a lot more in order to buy a machine that is effective for my needs. For the record, I had simply gone shopping locally for the two machines that I did buy, same brand, and I bought what was available. Sadly, others might make the same mistake but like me suffer without realizing that the machine they are staking their lives and health on are their worst enemy. If I didn't have a blacklight and a contagion that shows up under black light, I might never have discovered this!
It is mind boggling that the company cares so little because sealing the seams and blocking the hook holes would cost little or nothing! Buyer beware!
Dry, dry hands! I was suffering from eczema and I spent money out the whazzoo to go to a dermatologist. His very expensive medicines were doing no good. In fact one of them seemed to make my hands worse. While shopping in Wichita, I ran across one of those little kiosks where they were selling Dead Sea Salt products. The very nice young woman who saw me putting on hand lotion called me over and she demonstrated her product. OUCH! I was telling her I have eczema! She assured me it would be good for me. I bought some other product from her, but not her salt! But then . . . my hands got so much better! In the next seven days my hands were much improved! I went back to the mall and couldn't find them. I'll admit it was terribly pricey but better than the cost of the dermatologist. She had told me they had a web site and so I went in search for it. However, I found other companies that sell Dead Sea Salt for considerably less. So, I bought some. Shipping wasn't cheap! But I'm using it once a week.
I simply scrub my hands with it. I also bought vegetable glycerin and I've added a several drops each of bergamot and tea tree essential oils to the bottle. I made it fairly strong. So, after using the salt, I apply a little of this--which is really intense moisturizing.
I'm no doctor. You can take my singular experience as my own testimony for what it is worth. You may find products by searching the Internet that are better.
The company that introduced me to the idea has several good products--as I said, I bought some--and they are Deja Vu Cosmetics.
And later--before I found Dead Sea Salt--I remembered a local bookstore sells Dead Sea products. I bought a lotion that I dearly love called AHAVA: Dead Sea Laboratories
All of these produce this silky feel to my skin and it can only be the salt itself. My hands are nearly completely healed now in just a few short weeks. I am so thrilled! And no, at this time I own no stock in any company that manufactures and imports these products. ;) But maybe I ought to!
I have not tried it yet, but my local health foods store claims that Himalayan Salt works the same way. They also sell the pretty pink salt for eating and she claims it is the best tasting salt and the only one that those on low sodium diets can eat. But I haven't tried this.
Both the Dead Sea Salt and the Himalayan Salt are low sodium and have trace minerals, btw. This is just a warning that I stumbled across--luckily--Sea Salt is not the same! There are no substitutions for these fairly pricey salts. I still feel that the discovery that has given me so much comfort the price seems low in comparison.
Showing posts with label fungus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fungus. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Friday, November 02, 2007
Uncertainty:
Originally posted on Beliefnet on October 23:
It was a crisp thirty-seven degrees as the sun rose this morning. I stepped outside with my dog for our morning outing. For the first time in seven months, I could see my breath steaming and rising into the early morning light. The dew frosted the tips of grass and made my shoes wet. Sun streaked across my yard and brightly lit the fronts of houses across the road. There is a brightness about the early morning sun that is barely remembered and almost mundane by midday. I have good associations with mornings like this. To be in it is to be vibrantly alive.
I haven't figured out where this is going, but from time to time I think about being present in the moment. I try to be. I try to savor what happens in everyday simple seconds. I'm prone to daydream, to be lost in my thoughts and anywhere but in the reality around me. So, to be present in the moment means calling myself back from whatever adventure I have created in my imagination.
Kahlil Gibran said something in the Prophet that has always haunted me--although I can't quote him right now because I don't have my book. It was something to this effect: That although we go forward slowly, we go not backward. So whenever I am present in the moment, that moment is tinted by this thought. We, and I think I can say this fairly, spend most of our lives going forward and backward. Or round and round. And if I go forward for a while and break the chain of my existence, I return again. Tonight will find me in the same place as I was in last night. And this is security and we like it this way. But this is also boredom and tedium and we don't like that at all!
It has been a year now since I noticed the first symptoms I had of this sickness that has unearthed my daily existence and has dislodged me from my old routines, robbed me of plans for my future I'd never identified, deprived me of most of the material baggage that has increased and clung to me through nearly an entire lifetime. Uncertainty is not something we like (again, I feel safe in saying this because most of us aren't comfortable with it). Depression has accompanied it. The effect is that when I need to be moving forward, I spend my time dwelling on what I can't do anything about, what I am probably leaving behind forever and what I wish I could have appreciated more before I lost it. And I spend an awful amount of time trying to be healthy.
So more than ever right now I am noticing how much routine pleases me. And how what tomorrow may bring can unhinge rob me of hope. I'm forced to dwell in the moment because my imagination can't find a solution for the unknown that lies ahead. A lot of things like my imagination have gained new purpose in this adventure. My imagination is a tool that could, I hope, find a solution. It would be so much better to choose which way to go than to be shoved one day at a time, unwilling, into a less-than-ideal existence. Allergies have had the same effect as they warn me away from what makes me sick.
I hate to say it, but I'm lonely. And I know that others go through this too. At a time when they most need their loved ones to share their lives, their loved ones have withdrawn, become angry at what they don't understand . . . It is very difficult to say that. Sometimes it hurts me so deeply! I feel judged, but for what? It isn't something that I did. I'd gladly dance right back from the fate that has me in its grips.
Where has God been through all of this? My faith has had its ups and downs. Because I am so slow about my duties, I don't take the time to be with him the way I used to. But for some reason, I feel that God has--shall I say "allowed"?--something to do with this--shaking up my old routine, changing me, moving me in a new direction. And is it optimism that makes me believe that in the end "all will be well"? I tread uneven ground now on the path up the mountain. At the top is the glittering city that I had seen from far away, the one that I was promised. I just have one last climb.
It was a crisp thirty-seven degrees as the sun rose this morning. I stepped outside with my dog for our morning outing. For the first time in seven months, I could see my breath steaming and rising into the early morning light. The dew frosted the tips of grass and made my shoes wet. Sun streaked across my yard and brightly lit the fronts of houses across the road. There is a brightness about the early morning sun that is barely remembered and almost mundane by midday. I have good associations with mornings like this. To be in it is to be vibrantly alive.
I haven't figured out where this is going, but from time to time I think about being present in the moment. I try to be. I try to savor what happens in everyday simple seconds. I'm prone to daydream, to be lost in my thoughts and anywhere but in the reality around me. So, to be present in the moment means calling myself back from whatever adventure I have created in my imagination.
Kahlil Gibran said something in the Prophet that has always haunted me--although I can't quote him right now because I don't have my book. It was something to this effect: That although we go forward slowly, we go not backward. So whenever I am present in the moment, that moment is tinted by this thought. We, and I think I can say this fairly, spend most of our lives going forward and backward. Or round and round. And if I go forward for a while and break the chain of my existence, I return again. Tonight will find me in the same place as I was in last night. And this is security and we like it this way. But this is also boredom and tedium and we don't like that at all!
It has been a year now since I noticed the first symptoms I had of this sickness that has unearthed my daily existence and has dislodged me from my old routines, robbed me of plans for my future I'd never identified, deprived me of most of the material baggage that has increased and clung to me through nearly an entire lifetime. Uncertainty is not something we like (again, I feel safe in saying this because most of us aren't comfortable with it). Depression has accompanied it. The effect is that when I need to be moving forward, I spend my time dwelling on what I can't do anything about, what I am probably leaving behind forever and what I wish I could have appreciated more before I lost it. And I spend an awful amount of time trying to be healthy.
So more than ever right now I am noticing how much routine pleases me. And how what tomorrow may bring can unhinge rob me of hope. I'm forced to dwell in the moment because my imagination can't find a solution for the unknown that lies ahead. A lot of things like my imagination have gained new purpose in this adventure. My imagination is a tool that could, I hope, find a solution. It would be so much better to choose which way to go than to be shoved one day at a time, unwilling, into a less-than-ideal existence. Allergies have had the same effect as they warn me away from what makes me sick.
I hate to say it, but I'm lonely. And I know that others go through this too. At a time when they most need their loved ones to share their lives, their loved ones have withdrawn, become angry at what they don't understand . . . It is very difficult to say that. Sometimes it hurts me so deeply! I feel judged, but for what? It isn't something that I did. I'd gladly dance right back from the fate that has me in its grips.
Where has God been through all of this? My faith has had its ups and downs. Because I am so slow about my duties, I don't take the time to be with him the way I used to. But for some reason, I feel that God has--shall I say "allowed"?--something to do with this--shaking up my old routine, changing me, moving me in a new direction. And is it optimism that makes me believe that in the end "all will be well"? I tread uneven ground now on the path up the mountain. At the top is the glittering city that I had seen from far away, the one that I was promised. I just have one last climb.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Mold was only half my problem:
I knew that I was suffering two sets of symptoms. What was good for one was bad for the other. For example: Listerine would stop the action of one, but make the other one go wild (sugar and alcohol). Without a helpful doctor--and I cannot understand this for the life of me--I have suffered from the other problem until I figured it out by myself.
We'll keep it broad: Fungus.
The most common fungus that most people do know something about is yeast. And yeast is way underrated! Not even doctors seem to attach sufficient importance to diagnosing and treating it. When the thought of yeast occurred to me and I began to take measures as though yeast was my problem, it helped. I began by eating lots of yogurt and taking acidophiles. It only gave me a modicum of relief but pointed me in the right direction. I checked out the local health food store and I began taking an herbal anti-fungal regimen that helps a whole lot more, but still isn't good enough to give me total comfort.
The symptoms ascribed to yeast, not fitting my own symptoms exactly, indicate possibly that another kind of fungus or an unusual localized infection in the eyes, nose and mouth and sometimes in the lungs has mislead my doctor. Yeast, candida albicans, typically causes digestive problems and I haven't noted any. And I don't have thrush. I have no sores in my mouth and this has been confirmed by my dentist. But on rare occassions my lips have had a sore or two.
There are several kinds of yeast that make people sick and then there are several other kinds of fungus that make people sick. The fact that I had been given a powerful antibiotic at the end of last summer should have been a red flag. So I think the cause should have been reason for the doctor to check into yeast/fungus.
Most healthy people don't become deathly ill from a fungus. And I am healthy otherwise and that might have thrown my doctor off the scent.
Why haven't I said anything before this?
1) It still isn't officially diagnosed. I figure that since my doctor didn't even consider the possibility, there is no use in going to him now and saying, "I've pretty much figured out what the problem is. Now, make me well!" ;) I'm looking for a doctor while my husband catches up on the medical bills.
2) I want the right kind of doctor. I don't want to run into the same ignorance that I did before. From my research so far, I have come to the conclusion that not enough doctors are well enough informed on the subject.
3) I live in an area where there are fewer specialists and I haven't found a way to locate a good doctor in one of the larger cities nearby.
4) I was also focused on the mold in my home, one way or another, until that problem was solved--leaving me with the worst set of symptoms to combat, but helping me figure out the fungus connection.
The more research I do, the more worried I become about our ignorance of the problems caused by fungus. 30% of cases are deadly. Some of the common things that people are diagnosed with may very well be misdiagnosed fungus infections that will eventually lead to more complications and further lists of symptoms and more bottles of medicine for misdiagnosed maladies. It is possible that many cases of dementia are overlooked yeast/fungus infections, for example.
To my horror, as I read the list of symptoms and realize that my own father might have actually died of a fungus infection brought on twelve years previous to his death after his bout with colon cancer--for which he was given antibiotics. He always said that it was the cancer surgery that started all his problems and his decline. I saw the yeast in his mouth in the hospital after he broke his hip. I know it was there. I just didn't know what it could do and I trusted the doctors diagnosis first of dementia and then much later of Parkinson's.
It may have been the cause of his increasing inability to balance and therefore the cause of his broken hip. Ears are commonly infected. And the drooling (I experienced it last fall), the lack of concentration, the memory lapses and even his blindness may all have been caused by yeast or fungus (molds, too). And all those years that he was ailing and I was amazed at the amount of sugar he could eat! I was glad he could eat sugar. And as crazy as this may seem, I talked to his doctor about it and he had no concerns since my father wasn't diabetic. Craving sugar is a symptom and should have been a concern.
******
To carry on here: My closets, or my bedding, or my bath towel, or whatever I have touched or used must harbor the fungus and when humidity rises, the fungus becomes active. When the fungus is active it puts out mycotoxins (I'll check my terminology when I have a chance and correct this if I am wrong) that are virtually indestructible. Some can even be boiled without being destroyed (a mystery solved). At any rate, these are only examples to help relate what the problem is. I breath or eat these mycotoxins and then they overload my system (kidneys, liver and skin) and it can't remove them and this is what causes the symptoms.
The way I see it is that I infect my environment and then it infects me back. It becomes a vicious circle. My body fights it off only to get hit again and again from my environment. Moisture is my greatest enemy. Even the water in the sink drain can be infected and cause problems. Chlorine is my best friend. The fungus gets into everything I use and everything I touch. It is not easy to destroy, a hidden enemy that waits in dark shadows.
So, today I sit here with a dehumidifier next to me. I drink lots of water and eat lots of yogurt and try to avoid sugar along with a whole host of other special paranoid behaviors to protect myself from my almost microscopic enemy! Okay, I'll fess up! I have even used yogurt in my hair! Hopefully, I'll get well and eventually maybe I can even help others who suffer from the mysterious maladies the doctors don't diagnose. I have a lot of reading yet to do.
I have some good links and reading suggestions, but I've been sitting here too long for today. I'll try to share them with you in hopes that you can help somebody suffering from mysterious illnesses like I am.
We'll keep it broad: Fungus.
The most common fungus that most people do know something about is yeast. And yeast is way underrated! Not even doctors seem to attach sufficient importance to diagnosing and treating it. When the thought of yeast occurred to me and I began to take measures as though yeast was my problem, it helped. I began by eating lots of yogurt and taking acidophiles. It only gave me a modicum of relief but pointed me in the right direction. I checked out the local health food store and I began taking an herbal anti-fungal regimen that helps a whole lot more, but still isn't good enough to give me total comfort.
The symptoms ascribed to yeast, not fitting my own symptoms exactly, indicate possibly that another kind of fungus or an unusual localized infection in the eyes, nose and mouth and sometimes in the lungs has mislead my doctor. Yeast, candida albicans, typically causes digestive problems and I haven't noted any. And I don't have thrush. I have no sores in my mouth and this has been confirmed by my dentist. But on rare occassions my lips have had a sore or two.
There are several kinds of yeast that make people sick and then there are several other kinds of fungus that make people sick. The fact that I had been given a powerful antibiotic at the end of last summer should have been a red flag. So I think the cause should have been reason for the doctor to check into yeast/fungus.
Most healthy people don't become deathly ill from a fungus. And I am healthy otherwise and that might have thrown my doctor off the scent.
Why haven't I said anything before this?
1) It still isn't officially diagnosed. I figure that since my doctor didn't even consider the possibility, there is no use in going to him now and saying, "I've pretty much figured out what the problem is. Now, make me well!" ;) I'm looking for a doctor while my husband catches up on the medical bills.
2) I want the right kind of doctor. I don't want to run into the same ignorance that I did before. From my research so far, I have come to the conclusion that not enough doctors are well enough informed on the subject.
3) I live in an area where there are fewer specialists and I haven't found a way to locate a good doctor in one of the larger cities nearby.
4) I was also focused on the mold in my home, one way or another, until that problem was solved--leaving me with the worst set of symptoms to combat, but helping me figure out the fungus connection.
The more research I do, the more worried I become about our ignorance of the problems caused by fungus. 30% of cases are deadly. Some of the common things that people are diagnosed with may very well be misdiagnosed fungus infections that will eventually lead to more complications and further lists of symptoms and more bottles of medicine for misdiagnosed maladies. It is possible that many cases of dementia are overlooked yeast/fungus infections, for example.
To my horror, as I read the list of symptoms and realize that my own father might have actually died of a fungus infection brought on twelve years previous to his death after his bout with colon cancer--for which he was given antibiotics. He always said that it was the cancer surgery that started all his problems and his decline. I saw the yeast in his mouth in the hospital after he broke his hip. I know it was there. I just didn't know what it could do and I trusted the doctors diagnosis first of dementia and then much later of Parkinson's.
It may have been the cause of his increasing inability to balance and therefore the cause of his broken hip. Ears are commonly infected. And the drooling (I experienced it last fall), the lack of concentration, the memory lapses and even his blindness may all have been caused by yeast or fungus (molds, too). And all those years that he was ailing and I was amazed at the amount of sugar he could eat! I was glad he could eat sugar. And as crazy as this may seem, I talked to his doctor about it and he had no concerns since my father wasn't diabetic. Craving sugar is a symptom and should have been a concern.
******
To carry on here: My closets, or my bedding, or my bath towel, or whatever I have touched or used must harbor the fungus and when humidity rises, the fungus becomes active. When the fungus is active it puts out mycotoxins (I'll check my terminology when I have a chance and correct this if I am wrong) that are virtually indestructible. Some can even be boiled without being destroyed (a mystery solved). At any rate, these are only examples to help relate what the problem is. I breath or eat these mycotoxins and then they overload my system (kidneys, liver and skin) and it can't remove them and this is what causes the symptoms.
The way I see it is that I infect my environment and then it infects me back. It becomes a vicious circle. My body fights it off only to get hit again and again from my environment. Moisture is my greatest enemy. Even the water in the sink drain can be infected and cause problems. Chlorine is my best friend. The fungus gets into everything I use and everything I touch. It is not easy to destroy, a hidden enemy that waits in dark shadows.
So, today I sit here with a dehumidifier next to me. I drink lots of water and eat lots of yogurt and try to avoid sugar along with a whole host of other special paranoid behaviors to protect myself from my almost microscopic enemy! Okay, I'll fess up! I have even used yogurt in my hair! Hopefully, I'll get well and eventually maybe I can even help others who suffer from the mysterious maladies the doctors don't diagnose. I have a lot of reading yet to do.
I have some good links and reading suggestions, but I've been sitting here too long for today. I'll try to share them with you in hopes that you can help somebody suffering from mysterious illnesses like I am.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
A new appreciation for mold:
****If you have come here on a search for symptoms or observations I have recorded here, I have learned so much since it was originally published. I can tell when somebody Googles, but I have no idea who Googled. ;) Do leave any questions that you may have and if I know the answers, I'd be delighted to help you. In the last two days one person wanted to know if mold can be crystal like. Yes. Yeasts and possibly histoplasmosis which becomes a true yeast once it is established in the lungs. And yesterday somebody wanted to know about eyes. I have three spots in my left eye. So please do ask because I've had to figure out so much on my own! Wikipedia is also a great help.***
I have arrived at a new level of awareness of the capabilities of our hidden enemy. I realized I must be there when I began contemplating the number of mold spores per square inch in the refrigerator. My refrigerator may never be dirty again. Others opening my refrigerator door may be assaulted by a wave of the odor of chlorine. If it is possible for foods to absorb it, my cooking may take on a characteristic hint of chlorine.
Well, actually, this may be true for my whole house now. Chlorine is the enemy of my enemy and it is now my best friend.
New rules for the fridge: Nothing moist may remain in it for more than one week. Even so, all moist foods should be contained in airtight containers. No more green fuzzies in my fridge!
Seriously, mold spores are always present in air--all air. That means in the accumulated dust that settles on everything, there are a good number of mold spores that are ready to grab at any moisture. Opportunistic little nasties! I realize now that I used to have quite a number of bad housekeeping habits. I thought I knew the truth about my dirt! I had no idea. New rule: No moisture anywhere! No damp towels, no drying wash cloths, no water standing under a soap dispenser, no damp dirty clothes (this was always a rule but now it will be enforced without mercy). The plumber will roll his eyes when he hears I've called again. I'll freak for a leak! Dusting and vacuuming will take on a new intensity around here. Any spec of dust may contain within it one of those dreaded mold spores.
I went to see what my choices are in disinfectants. Time and again, I saw "Kills flu virus!" plastered across the front of the bottle or can. My response? It ought to say, "Kills mold spores!" I guess that a great many people are mistaken and place the priority on getting rid of bacteria. If only they knew that bacteria aren't the real germies. Products that I used to think of as disinfectants will no longer be found under my kitchen sink.
Otherwise, I'm thoroughly occupied these days with helping get Ike ready to go to drum and bugle corps. The list of things to do to prepare for him to be gone for three months is as long as my arm. I'm writing lists and checking them repeatedly.
I have arrived at a new level of awareness of the capabilities of our hidden enemy. I realized I must be there when I began contemplating the number of mold spores per square inch in the refrigerator. My refrigerator may never be dirty again. Others opening my refrigerator door may be assaulted by a wave of the odor of chlorine. If it is possible for foods to absorb it, my cooking may take on a characteristic hint of chlorine.
Well, actually, this may be true for my whole house now. Chlorine is the enemy of my enemy and it is now my best friend.
New rules for the fridge: Nothing moist may remain in it for more than one week. Even so, all moist foods should be contained in airtight containers. No more green fuzzies in my fridge!
Seriously, mold spores are always present in air--all air. That means in the accumulated dust that settles on everything, there are a good number of mold spores that are ready to grab at any moisture. Opportunistic little nasties! I realize now that I used to have quite a number of bad housekeeping habits. I thought I knew the truth about my dirt! I had no idea. New rule: No moisture anywhere! No damp towels, no drying wash cloths, no water standing under a soap dispenser, no damp dirty clothes (this was always a rule but now it will be enforced without mercy). The plumber will roll his eyes when he hears I've called again. I'll freak for a leak! Dusting and vacuuming will take on a new intensity around here. Any spec of dust may contain within it one of those dreaded mold spores.
I went to see what my choices are in disinfectants. Time and again, I saw "Kills flu virus!" plastered across the front of the bottle or can. My response? It ought to say, "Kills mold spores!" I guess that a great many people are mistaken and place the priority on getting rid of bacteria. If only they knew that bacteria aren't the real germies. Products that I used to think of as disinfectants will no longer be found under my kitchen sink.
Otherwise, I'm thoroughly occupied these days with helping get Ike ready to go to drum and bugle corps. The list of things to do to prepare for him to be gone for three months is as long as my arm. I'm writing lists and checking them repeatedly.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Procrastinating
I've been dawdling about moving out of this house to a house we own across town that we had been using as a rental. But I have decided to quit dawdling and get it done. I may be in Internet silence for a few days or more.
It's the rain, you know. It keeps raining! We need a few essentials like beds.
It's the rain, you know. It keeps raining! We need a few essentials like beds.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
"I hate this place!"
Finding the front door standing wide open, she stepped in onto the dirty bare wood floor, paused and glanced toward the two doors that lead into the recesses of the house. "Hello?" She heard a rattle and followed the sound through the door that lead into the kitchen. The first person she saw was the heater repairman sitting on the hallway floor and then her husband's head behind the stove. It was surreal that they seemed not to acknowledge her entrance, that the silence seemed to be able to mute the clank of a wrench as it thumped to the floor.
The cold came through her jacket and she noted that the back door stood wide open, too. Even with both doors wide open, the stale odor of urine mingled with the odor of latex paint and the thick atmosphere felt difficult to breath in.
Breaking the silence again, she said, "I hate this place!" The heater repairman glanced up at her briefly, then returned to his work. Her husband's head bobbed behind the stove.
Most of the time we live thinking that there is order to our lives. We build our plan for our tomorrows on the basis of that order. We think we know where we will be tomorrow and who we will be with and where we will live. But sometimes the unexpected, even the unbelievable can happen and it can change everything in a blink of realization. The continuing thread of our lives is snapped in two--the plan we had for tomorrow becomes ridiculous and what we did yesterday, in light of our discovery, becomes stupid. Denial is usually the first response. Then slowly truth wars with denial and we take a step back, examine the evidence, frown, face it and fear it. But the change, undesired and unexpected, makes the denial impossible. Suddenly the future is rife with questions. The unknown can be frightening, a place where our worst fears may be realized. Then all we can do is devise a new plan and hope that lady luck will smile on our future and make it secure.
"I choose life," she said. She said it boldly and then repeated it to herself more quietly. That was the absolute choice, the writing on the wall. It was a choice between death and life. Choosing to live should be simple enough, but it didn't seem that way. The echo of that statement colored the days that seemed to net altogether too little progress in the right direction. She was ready to move, to solve the dilemma, but barriers stood in her way. With every step since the day the truth began to dawn on her those words seemed to vibrate through her limbs. Fear and fury! It took fear to move her and fury to energize her.
Remembering now the many events that accumulated over the years, this day of change shouldn't have been unexpected. When had it begun? Was it in the fall of 2000 that she experienced the first symptoms of the disease? Six years! That's a lot of denial. But of all the possible causes this one--this one--was the most difficult to accept or believe.
The cold came through her jacket and she noted that the back door stood wide open, too. Even with both doors wide open, the stale odor of urine mingled with the odor of latex paint and the thick atmosphere felt difficult to breath in.
Breaking the silence again, she said, "I hate this place!" The heater repairman glanced up at her briefly, then returned to his work. Her husband's head bobbed behind the stove.
Most of the time we live thinking that there is order to our lives. We build our plan for our tomorrows on the basis of that order. We think we know where we will be tomorrow and who we will be with and where we will live. But sometimes the unexpected, even the unbelievable can happen and it can change everything in a blink of realization. The continuing thread of our lives is snapped in two--the plan we had for tomorrow becomes ridiculous and what we did yesterday, in light of our discovery, becomes stupid. Denial is usually the first response. Then slowly truth wars with denial and we take a step back, examine the evidence, frown, face it and fear it. But the change, undesired and unexpected, makes the denial impossible. Suddenly the future is rife with questions. The unknown can be frightening, a place where our worst fears may be realized. Then all we can do is devise a new plan and hope that lady luck will smile on our future and make it secure.
"I choose life," she said. She said it boldly and then repeated it to herself more quietly. That was the absolute choice, the writing on the wall. It was a choice between death and life. Choosing to live should be simple enough, but it didn't seem that way. The echo of that statement colored the days that seemed to net altogether too little progress in the right direction. She was ready to move, to solve the dilemma, but barriers stood in her way. With every step since the day the truth began to dawn on her those words seemed to vibrate through her limbs. Fear and fury! It took fear to move her and fury to energize her.
Remembering now the many events that accumulated over the years, this day of change shouldn't have been unexpected. When had it begun? Was it in the fall of 2000 that she experienced the first symptoms of the disease? Six years! That's a lot of denial. But of all the possible causes this one--this one--was the most difficult to accept or believe.