The movers for one of the local homeless service organizations, that provide low-cost furniture for families who are transferring to a more stable living situation, came by yesterday and picked up my 'toxin-infused' couch. I had decided to donate it to them.Now, in case you're thinking "What the holy Hell, Donald!", and are concerned that I've lost my moral and ethical compass, and that I'm being nasty toward poor folks, Linda pointed out that ONLY I find it to be 'toxin-infused'. She sat on it, at various points, for months, without any undue negative reaction at all. For her, it was just a regular, everyday couch. And she notes that almost no one else on the planet would find it to be 'toxin-infused'. It became that way, in my bodily perception, when I was suffering from the terror/depression crisis of 2020. Whatever this 'toxin' was in my house [and I only use that term because I had no earthly idea WHAT IT WAS, only that it produced a toxic reaction in my skin] also got into my shorts and made them 'feel like' they had some sort of 'burning salve' spread all over them.
So, objectively, there MAY have been UTTERLY NOTHING there at all. My neurologist theorized that the 'toxic' sensation I felt was 100% related to my peripheral neuropathy. While it was an interesting theory, I didn't quite buy it. I had covered the couch in a thick mylar AND a cloth covering, both of which I had purchased from Amazon, and for a few months I was doing 'ok', but then the 'toxic perception' started to 'bleed through' those coverings. Again, Linda would sit on the couch, with the coverings on it, and FEEL NOTHING AT ALL. So, either her nerves are dead [which I doubt] or mine are at a super hyper level [which is far more likely].
The trouble is that -- as with so many other issues in my less-than-normal world -- there is no 'standard' by which to measure ANYTHING at all. At least there is no objectively verifiable standard, none of which I'm aware. When I was in the depths of the crisis, and my terror/depression was jumping off the chart -- and I was actively contemplating suicide 10-15 times a day [this went on for 7 months, making it absolutely horrible for me and for Linda] -- I had posted the issue on Facebook; I had considered hiring an environmental engineer to come to my house and test the materials [though I had no idea whom to ask for this service, and probably could not have afforded their services in any case]; but no one who responded to my post had an 'answer' to my 'toxin fears' that sounded sufficiently appropriate to the circumstances.
As I've recovered from the crisis over the past 8 months -- with the life-saving assistance of psychiatric medication [which I no longer have to ingest, since my body eventually reached a fair level of homeostasis] and with the help of 17 critically important friends, colleagues, and medical personnel -- I have chose to 'change the circumstances' in order to minimize the 'negative impact' of the 'toxin'. [My friends Alvin, from my Unitarian Universalist congregation, suggested I call it a 'negative neurological experience' or NNE, and Pamela, my yoga therapist, suggested terming it "a box of unknown reactions", which helped to place the 'negative reaction' I was having in a more acceptable perspective.]
I've discarded the shorts that became 'infused' with the 'burning sensation'; the same with the underwear and boot socks that produced that sensation; and now this couch. And I have two stainless steel-lined LG washing machines which I need to sell [purchased new, in 2020, for $650 each], because, in the depths of my confused ability to protect myself, I inadvertently washed some of the 'infused' clothing in them, and now don't 'trust' the machines for washing my clothing. In fact, due to what kicked off the whole crisis in the first place -- using far too much laundry detergent in a washer in which I had washed some Wrangler boot socks, that turned out to have a chemical in them that I was violently allergic to -- I now 'wash' all my clothes in a Lavorio hand washer and ONLY use a small amount of vinegar with each load, NO detergent at all. Cleans the clothes quite sufficiently, actually -- though I may need to set aside some of the clothing that became 'truly soiled' for a small load that contains detergent.
I paid $600 for the couch, from Carol House, just 5 years ago, and it was in great shape OTHER THAN the reaction I had gotten from it during the crisis, and in the months following the crisis as well. We had first considered advertising it on Craig's List for sale, but I decided I didn't want just any Tom, Dick, or Susan coming through my house to check it out [from a 'safety of my home' perspective]. So, donating it seemed like a better choice [and a poor family will therefore be getting a great deal]. I do plan to put the two LG washers on Craig's List, since I've kept them in my garage, and no potential buyer has to come into my house to see them. The proceeds from the washer sales will be used for purchasing a new couch and a new porcelain-lined washer [similar to the one I had owned, for years, before traumatically 'polluting' it in March 2020].
Hence, as of yesterday, the removal of the couch 'feel like' an EMOTIONAL VICTORY. The 'toxin', or NNE, has finally left my living space -- which allows me to feel a seriously diminished amount of stress. I have a larger wardrobe of clothing [primarily purchased from Lands' End, which I discovered to have clothing that are not toxic to me] that don't generate a negative skin reaction -- once, that is, I've washed them several times to diminish the chemicals originally used in manufacturing the clothing.
I feel 'stronger' emotionally than I've felt in the past decade, and I sense that I have come out of this past year's nightmare more resilient, and more psychologically and physically healthy. The neuropathy still produces a burning sensation in my calves and I continue to feel like I'm 'walking on wire mesh and/or broken glass' due to the pain in my feet [not the least bit pleasant]. But the Cymbalta anti-depression medication that had been prescribed for the peripheral neuropathy wasn't really minimizing either of those sensations. Further, and most disturbingly, the medications were starting to case 'brain fog', and frankly the neuropathy is no longer as bad as it was during the 2020 crisis. I can take low doses of Tylenol to control the negative sensations, when they do flare up, and generally the pain is at a 'low tolerable level' of burn. Additionally, the pool water, when I'm swimming at the YMCA [which I resumed last week after a year of the pool being closed due to the pandemic] serves to cool and soothe my skin. The greatest benefit, it has turned out, was adding a daily dose of 1000 mcg. of timed-release B-12 [generally recommended for adults past 60 years of age] to my diet.
Ahhh...the struggles of life's challenges. And reaching a 'tolerable enough' point of health again!
