It’s that time of year when we hear psychologists on the radio or TV reminding us that the holidays can be stressful. When I hear these warnings, I think to myself, “Oh, REALLY?!”
Whether it’s the obligation or desire to connect, most people will make an effort to be with their family sometime during the holidays. This includes the growing number with the strange illness called Multiple Chemical Sensitivity, of which I am one.
We all yearn for those magical memories of holidays past. We each have an ideal image that comes to mind for every special holiday. Take Christmas for example. For some, it might look like this. A freshly cut Christmas tree stands tall in the corner of a well decorated family room. The lights are dimmed and candles are lit. There are shiny wrapped presents under the tree. A crackling fire is aglow. Relatives and friends are dressed up in holiday attire. Mouth watering aromas are coming from the general direction of the kitchen. Around the corner is an elegantly set dining table. In the center of the table is a festive floral arrangement. A dog runs through the house with bells tied around his neck, as children follow behind. To some this sounds like picture perfect!
As one with MCS, my version of that same holiday scene is dramatically different. When I first enter this postcard picture scene, my heart is warmed by the sight of family and friends, the beautiful decorations, and the excitement in the air. However, at this same moment, my mind starts to reel, because my body starts to scream. I am hit from all directions. It’s as if I am in the center of a firing squad. My eyes dart around the room to detect where the bullets (chemical emissions) are coming from.
There’s a fire blazing. The wood smoke irritates my throat and lungs and I suppress the coughing that is about to erupt. Stepping into the living room, I admire the real Christmas tree and its trimmings. I detect the chemicals in the pesticide that was sprayed on the tree before it was chopped and sold. There is a tightening in my chest and I start to feel queasy. I creep forward, as I wait for my husband to deliver our dish to the kitchen and return to my side. Then I practically throw our gifts at him and motion for him to put them under the tree. An artificial spice scent is overpowering the room. I suspect it is either an air freshener or a scented candle. My head begins to pound and the discomfort in my throat and chest continues to worsen. A distant relative runs up to me and gives me a hug before I can say, “Please don’t. You are wearing perfume.” It is too late. I now have a sickening perfume stuck on my clothes and in some of my hair. This is when I start to panic. I realize I can’t get away from the perfume on me. The chemicals in the scent are irritating my throat even more and now my tongue is feeling weird. I’m also feeling lightheaded. Other family members come to greet me slowly. Some know to keep their distance, because they are wearing perfume or fragranced products (deodorants, shampoos, conditioners). But what they don’t know is that I also react to the dry cleaning chemicals on their favorite Christmas jacket or outfit. I manage to slip into the dining room hoping to get fresher air. I admire the beautiful table and flowers. But after stepping only a few feet into the room, my throat starts to feel thick, as if it wants to close up. I detect the strong fragrances emitted from the flowers in the centerpiece on the table and the potpourri in the crystal bowl on the buffet nearby. Any desire to partake in a Christmas feast has left me. At this point, I want to run. I dash from the room, my mind searching for answers to the already overwhelming concerns facing me during this visit. From this point on, I stumble from room to room trying to find the space with the least amount of irritants. I decide to go outside for a while. On my way to the door, a happy dog runs past and clips me on the leg. I smile… until the flea shampoo hits me. I feel as if I have been poisoned. I am lightheaded, nauseous, and feel extremely weak. Quickly, I open the door and escape. Hoping that no one has missed me, I remain as long as it takes to feel better. Eventually my husband locates me. I ask him to let me know when dinner has been served. Feeling sad, I stand alone outside awaiting the return of my husband. In what seems like eternity, he calls for me from the door.
Feeling better, I re-enter the house and beg my husband to get me a small plate of food. I make my way to the couch and try to talk with the nearest person, so as not to seem antisocial. Very soon I notice a new burning in my throat and I glance around the room (yet again). The irritant smells like ink. I then notice the pretty packages sprawling out from under the tree. In order to know for sure if they are the culprits of this new chemical reaction, I slowly move toward a pile of presents next to the tree. As the scent is getting stronger, I lean close to the presents and take a sniff. Oh, that’s it. The ink (or finishes) on the wrapping papers are causing both my nose and throat to burn. I ask myself, why did I check out the presents and subject myself to more discomfort, if I thought that was the cause of the reaction? This is the same question my husband often asks me. Then the answer came, as it always does. I would rather be certain of the source and get away from it, than risk my reaction getting worse.
And so, my Christmas celebration with family is spent moving in and out of rooms and going outside frequently. I do this while trying to nibble on the food so thoughtfully prepared by many and visiting with my family as long as possible before getting sick. If I knew that all my symptoms would disappear when I left, I could better enjoy every moment of the gathering. However, many symptoms last for hours. And occasionally, a reaction can have symptoms lasting for days.
CONCLUSION:
Yes, Christmas is very stressful. But we manage to ignore the stress, because the effort we invest usually brings joy to us, our families, and our friends. I would like to conclude that for me Christmas remains the most special of holidays. Just like many, I dream of those same ideals we had as children. Although most are unrealistic for me, I still yearn for them and I wish you all the merriest Christmas ever.
UPDATED COMMENT (2010):
It has been a year since I wrote this article. My outlook on Christmas has changed. I dread Christmas and all the family gatherings I will either miss or have to hide from while they take place around me. I can no longer tolerate the airborne food particles that most of the world calls "pleasant aromas". Spices and certain foods that are prevalent at parties/meals are too dangerous for me. I have many neurological reactions, in addition to those I have been having throughout the past few years. Many are from the cosmetic and hair care products others wear. Others are from the list below.
NOTES:
There is a mental list that scrolls through the mind of one with MCS, when preparing for a visit home. For those unaware of this list, reading mine might explain why we laugh (with fear) at the warnings of holiday stress?
My List of What to Avoid to Survive a Holiday without Leaving Sick
Perfumes and Colognes
Fragranced Shampoos, Conditioners, and Styling Products
Makeup with fragrances or sunscreen
Hairspray
Fragranced Detergents (on clothes or in the laundry area)
Fabric Softeners (on clothes or in the laundry area)
Hand, Face, or Body Lotions (most are fragranced)
Aftershave
Fragranced Deodorants
Furniture that has just been polished
Fresh Flowers
Scented Candles or Potpourri
Air Fresheners (one should be shot for using one of these – more later)
Alcoholic Beverages in Open Containers
Greeting Cards or Wrapping Paper containing certain inks or finishes
Gifts that contain either plastic or rubber (like the cord on new appliances or electronics)
Spices: especially all peppers, garlic, and onions (used in preparing/cooking food in the house or
just reheated)
Gasoline seeping into house from a motorcycle recently parked in the garage.
Insect Repellant (if in a warm climate)
Sunscreen (if in a warm climate)
There are many symptoms that one with MCS can experience from exposure to the items on this list. Not everyone has the same reactions. I don’t even have the same reaction to the same type of product. For example: one perfume can make my nose, throat, and lung irritated, while another perfume can cause a severe headache, or another affect my sense of balance.
