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.
