July 5, 2001 #AtoZChallenge

 

July 5, 2001

The day my life changed forever.
CT-511 is a chemical pesticide. 

I was exposed to the powdered form while working at DSC Logistics. 

The pesticide had been sprayed on July 4, while the buildings were closed for Independence Day.

My team were the first people in. That includes our "general labor" (janitorial). 

We had our morning meeting sitting at tables that had not been washed since July 3. The forklifts were not washed. 

More importantly 

There were shrink wrapped units on the inside docks. 📦 That plastic wrap had a "dusty" quality. In fairness, a warehouse is not clean, and units coming off of trucks are not clean. Dirt and dust are normal. 

So I didn't give it a moment of thought when a dusty powder was coming off the plastic shrink wrap as I cut it to put the units away. 

I started coughing a few minutes into cutting. A former supervisor of mine, from when I worked in another area, drove by and said hello. That's when I dropped. I was coughing so hard that my legs went out. She (Laura) sent for help. 

My safety supervisor was on vacation. 

The team supervisor came. He had an ambulance called. I was still coughing.

By now, most of my team had gathered around me. John (my then boyfriend, now husband) was brought to me. He worked back in Laura's area. Someone called my mom, who worked in another building. There was a debate as to how to get me from the interior dock (which is the height of the back of a big rig truck 🚚) to the ambulance 🚑. John, who is very tall and strong, jumped out of the dock door. I knew what he had planned, and scooted to the same bay door. 

My team was freaking. "No! Don't jump!" 

I'm short. And not an idiot.

🤨

So many sarcastic remarks in my head, but unable to say any because I was still coughing and barely had any air left in me. 

John reached out and carried me, like a princess 🥰, to the stretcher. 

He rode with my mom to the hospital. St. Luke's in Bethlehem. 

The paramedic was very confused. Thought I was choking. Realizing that wasn't it, offered me a crack pipe to smoke.***

I have never done crack. Or pot. Maybe it's closer to a bong??? I honestly have no damn idea. 

It's basically Albuterol. But you suck on this pipe like thing, and it "smokes" or steams or chemically reacts, whatever. 💨😶‍🌫️ It opens airways. 

The ER was really confused. They sent me for a chest X-ray 🩻. At this point, I still did not know about exposure. 

I had gone to work. Boring, ordinary day. And now I was in the ER. 

I was sent home a few hours later and told to follow up with Dr. Karen Pastula, who was my family physician at that time. 

I was referred to pulmonary doctors. A cardiologist. An allergist. Doctor after doctor. I kept getting worse. Eventually, one doctor said I could not return to work. I was put on short-term disability. 

All the doctors agreed something serious was wrong, and all the tests (tortures, what nutcase came up with some of this shit?) showed I was definitely getting worse. BUT none would put a name to it. The last respiratory doctor before my health insurance ran out said, "it's like asthma, but TRUE asthma responds well to warm air, where as you quickly deteriorate." 

(That guy also used a finger pulseox "clothespin" that said my breathing was okay, even as I passed out on his floor, chest stopped rising, no breath sounds, and was turning blue. The thing still said my breathing was okay after it was disconnected from me. My mom witnessed all this. I just remembered collapsing on the floor and feeling my body paralyzed as my senses shutdown one by one.

It's called dying. 

And it's painful as fuck to come back.) 

July 5, 2002

My mom's supervisor was covering the shift that day. Another guy stopped breathing. Ambulance. 

But

Rich (mom's supervisor) was also the safety supervisor in her building. He got the MSDS book and sent a copy of the pesticide sheet with the guy.

And then he made a copy for my mom, remembering what I was dealing with. 

I had spent a year not knowing I was exposed to a chemical. 

I started showing it to doctors. Who glanced at it for a second. 

Probably the same amount of time as you, dear blog reader.

But then I learned a friend I knew from online gaming was actually a biochemist. He didn't know about my situation. I asked if he knew what an MSDS is.

"Material Safety Data Sheet. Yeah, I'm required to make sure we have them and they're accurate. I work for NASA on the Mars project. It isn't like the astronauts can swing by for one. They have to have the correct data on hand." 

(Granted, the mission was in he safety of the desert, not space. But the goal was to eventually send people to Mars, so the simulation mission fails if "outside" help is needed.) 

Anyway. I gave him a copy of the MSDS, the one at the top of this post. 

And he started telling ME about MY LIFE. How warm air would be the biggest trigger, because warm air activates the chemicals, enlarging them to prevent air from having space. In bugs, this works quickly. Human lungs 🫁 are bigger, which is the only reason a human exposed to this chemical pesticide would survive. He told me how strong smells, like onions, could make breathing more difficult too. How this chemical could burn lung tissue, but not show up on most tests. And how it is designed to stay in the system. 

He isn't a doctor. I passed his knowledge on to other doctors. 

I may as well passed on a recipe for soup. 

A biochemist isn't a medical doctor. So it didn't matter. 

But the medical doctors didn't know how to do anything about my exposure. Nor would they acknowledge that air over 60°F is when I start to struggle. There's no way to help me without acknowledgement of that. As several unsuspecting techs have learned when doctors send me for tests without giving a heads up. 

"Code Blue. Code Blue to the pulmonary testing room." 

The code team doesn't know where that is. The Chaplin got there first.

(And no, a lawyer can't help. It has been too many years. First, they couldn't help because I had no diagnosis. Then, because too many years passed. 

I know you don't believe me. 

Go ahead. Call the superior American lawyer you know who you believe will have a loophole. Start with, "back in 2001..." and watch how fast Super Lawyer passes. I've done this. A LOT.)

I met another friend at my writing group. She's in MENSA (the genius people club) and was studying biochemistry. 

I showed her the MSDS.

And she told me about my life. 

The same stuff the NASA biochemist told me. 

Still, not a medical doctor. So no help, no change to improve. But another human who knows what is wrong and why. Science!

My family doctor, Dr. Judy, is retiring soon. Glad for her, sad for me. 

See, she has run a test that proved I have asthma. 

Also, in her office once, during my husband's appointment, it got too hot and I stopped breathing. She had to literally pack me in ice-- every frozen item she had. (Pretty sure there was a frozen meal on my chest.) My temperature went from 96.4°F to over 101°F in minutes. 

Cooling my airway saved my life. 

She keeps a fan in her office for me. 

My stay at the hospital in January 2024 did not include such care. The doctor claimed my chart had no mention of my condition. 

(Yet my prescriptions were there... think I'm on those for fun??)

And my medical ID bracelet has details. 

But anyway. 

So that's why I'm a broken human. 

Most doctors can't help me.

Worse, most don't believe or understand. 

The exterminator my apartment complex uses said CT-511 isn't even used anymore. 

Into the Future #AtoZChallenge

1999 to 2000. Millennium party.

Friends Joe and Erica joined us to ring in the New Year... new century... new millennium. 

(I know some will argue that actually starts in 2001. But all the cool celebration stuff was 99 to 2000. Including the Y2K fear that computers would think it was January 01, 1900, and then screw up everything from banks to plane crashes. 

Kinda like the 2025 Trump presidentcy. 🤣) 

Anyway. People thought there would be so much change, such progress. 

Monday came and the world was pretty much the same. Into the future? Eh... not exactly. 

Heroes Fall #atozchallenge

Heroes

"Who is your hero and why?" 

It was a school assignment. So we had to pick someone. 

It does not matter who you pick. The answer is wrong. And someone will tell you why you are wrong. 

Jesus? Someone will point out the deaths and wars in His name.

Superman? Not real. 

A President? Omg, you'll find someone who hates that guy. 

Because no one is universally liked.

And because no one is perfect. 

Everyone falls. 

I picked a co-worker, more or less.

But twisted the essay to how he was bravery doing his job, putting himself in danger, to help someone. And then tossed in another plot twist, the patient was dying. Full blown AIDS in the 90s. 

I took an essay about a "hero" and made it about my pro stance on euthanasia. 

Yeah, here in 2025, we have treatments for HIV+. But that guy was suffering a slow and terrible death. He was begging, begging, for the pain to stop. He was trapped in isolation. No more human contact. His organs were shutting down. No more food, because he couldn't digest. There were no good moments left. Pain, suffering, and eventual death. 

The essay got me into college. (Colleges. I was accepted to 9 of them.)

I knew at 17 that all Heroes fall.

I let myself forget recently. I believed that John Fetterman, former Lt Governor current PA Senator, would stand up for our state, our people. He failed to do so. 

Garbage #AtoZChallenge memory

🎈

"No. Not spending money on a balloon. That's garbage, junk."

Yeah, dad, it is. 

In a week, it'll be trash. 

The helium will all run out, and the balloon will crash to the floor. And even if I put it in my toy box to try to save it, eventually someone will chuck it out. 

Or is it a happy memory? Is it a few hours, a few days, of joy? A brief reason to be grateful for life? 

Why is anything that doesn't last forever automatically garbage? 

You car doesn't last. 

Mom didn't last. 

But every one of those memories was worth it. Worth everything. 

Forget You #AtoZChallenge

4Frget You song memory

#AtoZChallenge Earnhardt

Dale Earnhardt

(Not a great job zooming in, but it's real.)

NASCAR driver. Some members of my family cared, DEEPLY, about his success. Several members of my family worked for GM Chevrolet dealerships and garages. "Mr. Goodwrench" brand. And that's who Dale most famously raced for. 

I was told to like him, to root for him, to be his fan. He was the good guy. Rusty Wallace, who drove for Ford, was the bad guy. 

You realize that these are just professional drivers who were paid to race around tracks, right? 

Neither good nor bad. 

Just people doing their jobs. 

My indifference is a disappointment. But, after he died, I no longer participated in any NASCAR stuff. 

Anyway 

So, back when I was probably about 10 years old, my Aunt took me to a car dealership. We left around 3am or something. Drove for hours to get there. Stood in an incredibly long line. I had no idea what we were doing or why we were there. I remember I had to pee, but wasn't allowed. Stand still, be quiet, don't pee, don't ask questions, smile. 

After a few hours, the line finally starts moving. Don't fidget. Oh man... I had to pee. 

Finally, we get in the building. If you've ever had to pee and been out in the cold, and then came inside to a warm building...

"Be good! You'll see soon." 

I couldn't imagine what could be better than a toilet. 🚽 

A guy was sitting at a table, signing pictures. My Aunt got one, I got one, and we got one without an autograph for my brother. (He was only signing for people who were there.) 

I was polite. I said "hi" and "thank you." My Aunt was talking for a few minutes. The incredibly long line behind was less than pleased by that. She didn't notice or care. 

"Anything you want to say?" 

Like a damn fool, "May I please use the lavatory?" 

He didn't know, just smiled and moved on to the next person. 

"I can't believe you met Dale Earnhardt and all you said was to ask about the bathroom!" 

🤨 "That's who that was?" 

"Why did you think we were here?"

Super disappointing failure. Let the family down. Unworthy of being brought. 

Oh, and I still had to pee. 

#AtoZChallenge Drinking

Drinking

[The following is for entertainment purposes only. It is illegal to consume alcohol while under 21 years of age in the United States.

This is not a confession or accusation.

Resemblance to life is coincidence.]

Legal disclaimer? Check.

Okay, so, I went to wedding with my family when I was 6. The reception afterwards was in a firehouse (very common in Pennsylvania). It was freaking hot. 

At the tables, every place setting had a little plastic cup. (A shot glass, but I knew nothing of that.) I took a sip of the yellowish liquid. 😬🤢

NOT white grape juice.

Tasted how I imagined Bleach would taste. 

(It was sparkling white wine. For the toast. 🥂 ) 

I had to go to the bartender to get something else. Why my parents, grandparents, or Aunt didn't handle this, I don't recall. I guess people were supposed to stay at their table? I don't know. So I go to the bartender to ask if I can get something to drink. Ice tea, preferably. 

They don't have that.

I couldn't drink soda. 

Eventually, after crying, I managed to score a cup of pineapple juice. 

I was seriously thirsty. I managed one more cup. They wouldn't serve me anymore because they needed it to mix for actual drinks. 

The dance floor was a disaster. It was overwaxed. People kept falling. My grandmother accidentally stepped on the corner of the dance floor, and 🐧 she went down, slid like a penguin across the room.

We left soon after. Hang On Snoopy was playing and my cousins were in a pile. Again, not from drinking, just because the floor was slippery. It was a shotty reception. And my first sip of alcohol. 

When I was 11, my mom took me with her to a BABY shower for a woman she worked with. A pregnant 🤰 woman. 

There was a bowl of punch to drink. No alternatives were set out. That's fine, I like fruit punch. After my fifth or sixth cup, the hostess pulled my mom aside.

"Are you sure she should drink that?"

"It's fruit punch. She can't have soda. And nothing else is set out, so yeah."

"Umm... there's a bottle of vodka in that." 

It was a baby shower. 

No other beverages were offered.

The very, very pregnant woman and I had been downing alcohol for three hours. 

And that's how I had my first hangover in sixth grade. 

In high school, we sold "Spirit cards." It was a fundraising thing. A bunch of businesses offered discounts and freebies to anyone with a spirit card.

Applebee's offered a free frozen beverage, such as milkshakes or margaritas. 

My friends and I took our cards to Applebee's. We ordered strawberry daiquiris. They can be made without alcohol. Ours were not. We got free drinks every time. Let me tell you... we were at Applebee's every damn week. 

And yes, I told my mom. She knew. And she also knew that we weren't getting drunk off of one. Hell, she saw me down a bottle of vodka at age 11 without getting all messed up. 

I could tell you about college. I lived in an apartment my freshman year. One time, my roommate and I went away for the weekend. Came home, opened the door, 😵‍💫 the FUMES alone were enough to get a person drunk. We decide to open the windows and clean for a bit.

But I'm gonna skip ahead. 2020, legal drinking! (I was 40.) 

My husband, bff, and her then husband, went to Atlantic City. It was the last weekend before "lockdown." No one was there. It was awesome.

A place had recently opened on the boardwalk. They served slushies. 

They served alcoholic slushies. 😋🤤

So good! And we were staying at a hotel, no driving, so... bottoms up! 

Two years later, this treat appeared at our local beer distributor, Shangys. 

Look, I don't actually drink much alcohol anymore. I've had probably 2 of those a year since. I really like them. I just don't spend money on drinking. 

Not like when I was younger. 

Cats #atozchallenge 2025 memory

This was my boy. He sadly 🌈 crossed the "rainbow bridge" years ago.

 

He loved to play the "winky-blinky" game where he'd shut his eyes, then open one to see if your eyes were closed. He also loved to "help" my husband play video games.
 

This is my other little brother, Mikey Shadow (named for the OCC guy). He claimed dad's shoebox. He also liked to steal the remote. He passed a few months after my mom did.
 

My Aunt and Uncle had a cat who loved to climb. After he tore up two screen doors, they made this one. He loved to climb up it, then meow his head off until a human helped him down. Ahhh... cats.
 
I am Batman... err... Batcat


Greetings, Batcat. I am Two-face.

Have a puurrrrrfect day! Enjoy the #AtoZchallenge

Black Saturday #atozchallenge blog hop

A memory I regret having. A moment I am forced to live through. "B" was going to be for "books," and I was going to try to find a way to discuss how valuable libraries are to authors and book lovers. Libraries in Switzerland, of course, because they are known for being politically neutral. (In America, libraries are now political fodder due to an executive order against them.)

😖
As a writer and book lover, I have BIG, STRONG feelings about that, as it does impact my writing life. MY GOAL of publishing a book that is popular at the library cannot happen if there aren't libraries, which is how the order will eventually result.

But that's political! So I can't, won't, and am not posting this in a post with the Insecure Writer's Support Group label or banner.
I'm skipping creating a post for IWSG this month. 

It would be a self-betrayal not to discuss how scary that order is and how I feel about US public libraries losing their primary funding source. 
As pictured above, you can see I wrote my Congressional representatives. However, not only do I lack faith they'll read it, I now also don't believe they have the power to help.

Black Saturday- March 15, 2025 https://theintellectualist.com/black-saturday-us-constitutional-crisis-2025/

"laws are only as strong as the institutions willing to enforce them."

That quote fits my life. See, I was a ridiculously well-behaved child. (https://www.additudemag.com/autism-in-girls/ ) At one point, I was moved to another class to "set a better behavioral example" for other students. (What idiot came up with that bullshit??? Can I tell you how much no one wanted to be me? OMG.) 

But, I have a younger brother. Unlike me, he has never focused on PERFECT behavior. 

No... no... he was a little troublemaker from the start. He'd push every boundary to see what he could get away with. And whatever punishment or discipline you might think would have worked, you are wrong. Because people tried them all.  ALL. Social Workers were called on a daycare worker, so no, physical violence did not deter him.  It did teach him that hitting was okay, so there went that boundary. Bravo.

Anyway, here is what I know from being stuck with the "juvie" crew and watching my brother grow up. There is absolutely no point to rules when there are no consequences. 

"Don't eat the candy."

And if a kid eats it? The kid has had the reward.

"Seriously, no candy!"

Okay. Kid has more candy.

"What did I say? You're in a time-out!"

That sounds like a punishment. Someone like me would have been absolutely devastated. My brother? He'll piss in your corner. NOT a metaphor. 🍆💦

Eventually, the disciplinarian gives up. 

And that's America now.

The court ruled. A judge told the MAGA to go stand in a corner, stop doing the illegal actions.

But nope!

And now the corner is pissed on. The carpet stinks. And even if someone says to clean it up, it's not gonna be cleaned right. 

No enforcement.

Oddly, people are getting deported and denaturalized (that's where someone born in a country is stripped of citizenship and chucked off to some other country, a citizen of nowhere with no identification or passport) left and right. But they're skipping due process, so the justice system is again cut out.

I'm sure Elon and his DOGe team will be firing all the judges soon. 

"That's not legal! You can't just do that!"

Who the fuck do you think is gonna stop it? 

No, seriously. No one has stopped anything else.

Oh sure, there will be some protestors. Maybe even a war. 

Keep in mind that we're dealing with someone who already wanted to use a nuclear ☢ weapon on a hurricane. And he has now shut down the agencies with the scientists who explained why that would be a bad idea. 

So, if you believe he wouldn't nuke his own country... he already wanted to do that and has fired the people who told him no.

He's pissing in the corner. 

It's not an overreaction. It's a prediction.
But hell, the doctors say my husband and I are gonna die in the next four years. 

And if social security and Medicaid get shut down in the next few months, well shit, I probably won't see my 46th birthday in August. 

But this blog may survive. 

Maybe someone in Switzerland will read this one day and say, "Oh look, an American knew and cared but didn't have the power to do a damn thing about it."

(Additional follow-up from March 18, 2025: )

Apple Tree #atozchallenge 2025 memory

This tree is my brother. 🍎🌳

For Halloween one year, he trick-or-treated as an apple tree. My mom made the costume. Those are red apples on his cheeks.

He was freaking adorable. People loved the costume.

My brother absolutely hates that I have all these cute pictures of him as a child. 😂

Revenge of the older sister!! Ha ha ha.

I love him. 

2025 Theme Reveal #AtoZChallenge Bloghop

Please check out the April Blogging from A to Z Challenge
#AtoZChallenge
a-to-zchallenge.com


My theme this year is going to be memories. A sort of alphabet of an autobiography, if you will. 

It's what we are, and one never knows when they could be gone. So I'll put some here. Hopefully they'll be interesting. 

Political Rant

Political rant. (Warning.)

IWSG

 https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html

Happy birthday to my husband John.

(Eating birthday potato soup from our friends Katie and Bob.)

Alternative to the orange felon's speech last night. Approximately 150k were watching when I last looked. 

This is an annoyance. I got a pineapple 🍍 coconut 🥥 slushie from my favorite food truck. And, while carrying it home, I slipped on the icey steps, the cup fell, and it completely exploded. Absolutely none left in the busted cup.

For a day, I'd like to be an annoyance to the traitorous felon who is destroying my country. Every freaking day, I'm stressed by yet another proclamation that targets my friends, family, environment, wallet, or a combination of those. 

So I'd like to be at least an annoyance for a day, to him. Wet socks, broken shoe 👞 heel, hair won't sit right, every pen is out, leaks, or explodes ink everywhere. Stuff like that. Annoying and humiliating. Some extra chaos. 

Obviously, I cannot become this thing. Just a fictional fantasy. Probably wouldn't make a real difference. Almost nothing I do feels like it makes much of a difference anymore. But I try. I reach out to Congress almost daily, sometimes more than once a day. I'm sure it isn't helping my blood pressure or respiratory issues, but I'm trying. 

I'd want to be an annoyance to him for a day. He plans to cut off my medical care and income, which will result in my life ending. So, there's that. 

Where Is My Money 💰

For followers of this blog, you know I lost a social media 🐦 account for a time. 

Well... so did someone else. And he's getting $10 million dollars. Hell... where is MY money?? 

https://www.facebook.com/share/1A2krCaFXH/

🤦‍♀️ Wow. What a huge weight off of my mind. Between this and renaming a body of water, all our problems are solved. 😑 Smooth sailing from here on out. Yup. Perfect health, wealth, and love for the whole country now. Heck, the whole world. Utopian paradise ✨️ coming up! 🤨 Yup. Any second now. 🫣🤔 Yup...

Mmmhhhmmm 

IWSG cha cha changes

InsecureWritersSupportGroup.com

February 5 question - Is there a story or book you've written you want to/wish you could go back and change?

I started a story a few years ago, mostly to process and deal with the unbearable emotions I was facing. I never published it. I shared some of it with two people. There's almost nothing stopping me from making changes to it. 

• I don't care enough
• I can't figure out how to get Scrivener on a Chromebook ( *NOT a complaint or ingradititude -- an observation of my own ineptitude) 
• FAIL FAIL FAIL
• My Samsung laptop won't work soon because of Windows update and such
• I'm fucking poor
• Probably gonna be more poor as food prices soar
• I hate Trump
• What I want to change depresses the shit out of me

So, I don't see this happening any time soon. 

There's another story I was working on. (Yup, also in Scrivener.) It's a YA. 

(There is no Caps Lock on Chromebook. Stop hitting Caps Lock, Jamie. Dammit.)
Anyhow, the tech doesn't fit. I don't know. I've been working on it for over a decade. 

And now, my main character would have much larger problems. Impossible ones. 

I don't know. I'm not okay. My friends aren't okay. Every day is a new, horrible, psychotic... 

A plane crashed in my old neighborhood the other day. 

Planes are falling from the sky. And the dipshit running the country is all, "we need to reduce the safety procedures and get rid of people!" 

Didn't see planes falling from the sky when Biden was president. Or birds. They found dead geese in a nearby lake, with the bird flu. No one is doing anything about that. 

I have zero chill. No focus. I just... 

I keep writing my useless Congress people.

And that story I was talking about? Yeah, my main character is a big supporter of someone who is currently a Congress person. And that person has taken a political nosedive. Abandoned a large chunk of what my main character admired. I already kill off her parents, have her betrayed by her family, lose a friend... now someone she looks up to fails? They were supposed to be the thing that propels her forward, that moves that final part so she is inspired to become the character at the ending. Now there's no decent reason for her choice. It's not a small rewrite, it's a plot overhaul. And I just don't feel like I have that in me. Not right now. 

Admiration #IWSG

I admired a woman, let's call her Soup. She spent a lot of time with me, for which I am grateful. She also spent a fair amount of time trying to get me to want to be someone else. Probably because she wanted to be someone else or maybe someone treated her that way? She lost a lot of interest in me when I became a teenager. Literally my 13th birthday. Suddenly I wasn't invited to things and we didn't hang out or anything. I don't know if it was me or her. I turned down a job at 16 because it was during hours she might call and want to do something. That call didn't come. A year later, a major and horrible, ultimately tragic, event happened. Soup knew it was coming but didn't tell me. Then blamed me for not knowing and thus not doing anything about it. We didn't speak for several years. Another death reconnected us a little. I now see a lot of the toxic traits. I see why she has lost most of her friends- she had an extensive network of people forty years ago. She's going through a hard time. I feel sympathy. But just the other day, we talked briefly, and she managed to mock me and call me names for ten minutes. I gave absolutely no response and she suddenly had to go and hung up. 

So yes, I admired someone and my opinion changed as I grew up. This example has been on my mind lately. A very complicated relationship which is mostly toxic.