Spring Cleaning

I’ve always wondered at the expression “spring cleaning.” Why spring? Why not winter cleaning, when you’re stuck inside anyway, or summer cleaning, when your kids are out of school and can be paid to do manual labor at minimal cost? Regardless of the origin of the expression, I found it to be true these past couple weeks as Zack and I undertook the task of deep cleaning our apartment.

Step 1 was accumulating a vast array of things that could be sold at a yard sale. This task involved roaming throughout the apartment, opening drawers, sorting through clothes, digging in closets, and searching under the bed for any and all objects that we don’t use or need. We ended up with a row of paper bags lining our bedroom wall that took up most of Zack’s side of the room. Zack was patient enough to put up with this for a couple weeks while we waited for the approaching yard sale. As luck would have it, I found a whole new treasure trove of things to sell after the yard sale, resulting in another line of paper bags and another yard sale this coming Saturday.*

Step 2 was initiated after I came across some information, both online and from friends, suggesting that many of the ingredients in the cleaning and cosmetic products I use are harmful to my body. I’ve heard bits and pieces of this stuff over the years, but going through a bone marrow transplant and all the related treatments and medications tends to make you take a second look at what you’re putting in and around your body. I figure I’ve done enough inevitable damage (through chemo, steroids, etc.); why choose to do more than I have to? I won’t go into all that I learned here, and I certainly don’t claim to have any expertise in this area, but I did find a few basic ingredients in almost all of my cosmetic and cleaning supplies that have been identified as carcinogens, hormone disrupters, or toxic chemicals.

At first I felt totally overwhelmed. While taking a shower one day last week, I imagined the theme music from Hitchcock’s Psycho as I stared around me in horror at all the products that contained these potentially hazardous chemicals. Everything from the shampoo to the sunscreen, from the body wash to the makeup. And the worst part is that the stress caused to my body by the newfound knowledge of these chemicals wreaks even more havoc on my system than the chemicals themselves!

The good news is that it’s actually much easier than one might think to replace harmful products with safe ones, and most of these replacement products are not only affordable but are also much better for the environment. Guess it makes sense that what’s safer for our bodies is also safer for our planet, right? Again, I don’t claim to be an expert in this area, and I’m still shopping at Safeway, but I figure that these basic choices Zack and I are making to eliminate as many harmful chemicals as possible from our lives can only do us good.


*The great thing is that we’re having the yard sale with friends from church, and all of our proceeds will go to our church’s annual Special Contribution, the majority of which funds the hiring of staff to work with our youth ministries. I first studied the Bible and became interested in God as a teenager, so I am deeply indebted to those people who sacrifice their time (and sanity) to work with youth, act as inspiring, positive examples, and teach them about God.

Never a Dull Moment

In America we’re all about excitement, standing out, and being unique or extraordinary. One doesn’t usually wish one’s life to be dull, boring, or uneventful, or to be perceived as ordinary or average. There have been countless times over the past two years of my life, however, in which I wished for nothing more. When I was first admitted to the hospital for my then undiagnosed and extremely rare immune disorder, teams of doctors visited me every day for five weeks before they finally pinpointed the cause of my sickness. Almost every day, after being stumped yet again by my array of symptoms, one or more doctors would teasingly tell me I was “special,” as if this was an original statement. It drove me crazy.

Another one of these times was my last hospital admission two weeks ago, which I didn’t bother to mention to most people because, let’s face it, lately I’ve been admitted to the hospital about as often as I’ve filled up on gas. The day I was admitted, I arrived in the day hospital for a routine infusion of IVIG, a blood product meant to boost my antibodies and therefore my immune defense. I came by myself for the two-hour infusion, since I’ve received IVIG at least 40 times over the past year and a half and expected nothing out of the ordinary (there’s that word again). My nurse was training someone that day, so she decided to follow protocol and hook me up to the cardiac monitor, which they usually never do. I took Benadryl and Tylenol before the infusion to prevent any possible allergic reaction, and then quickly fell asleep.

About two-thirds of the way through the infusion, I woke up to go to the bathroom and felt a little crummy. I know my body well enough now to know when something is wrong, though I can’t always put my finger on it. As soon as I got back to bed from the bathroom, I plugged myself back into the cardiac monitor, which immediately started beeping. The machine has several levels of warning, which correlate the different beeping pitches and frequencies. The first is, “You’re a little anxious or sleeping too soundly.” The second is, “Something’s wrong,” and the third is “GET THE PADDLES!”  I paged the nurse, muttered, “I’m going to pass out” as she entered the room, and then proceeded to feel my brain go to mush as the machine blasted its third and final warning level. During that moment, my heart rate actually dropped to 0, but luckily it rose quickly enough that they didn’t have to resuscitate me. I returned to consciousness to hear “CODE BLUE” being announced over the hospital PA system and saw a team of about 20-25 people rush into my room, shouting things at me and each other as they tore off my socks, checked my pulse, and started pumping me with fluids and hydrocortisone. Within 5 minutes, I was rushed to the ICU.

Not to worry; I was fine after about an hour since that chaos was simply caused by a severe allergic reaction to IVIG, which, thank God, I’ll never receive again. But protocol required that I be monitored overnight in the ICU, bringing me to hospital admission #3 in less than a month. I was pretty angry about the whole thing, but I’m grateful that it wasn’t anything more serious. I realized how God was protecting me by having the nurse decide to hook me up to the cardiac monitor. Even though no one was there with me, I wasn’t alone.

Isaiah 43:1-3 MSG
Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you.
  I've called your name. You're mine.
When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you.
  When you're in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you're between a rock and a hard place,
  it won't be a dead end—
Because I am God, your personal God,
  The Holy of Israel, your Savior.