Spring, Fall and... Cats? (How I Ended up with an EpiPen)

On top of having chemical allergies, I'm also allergic to nature...

I had my first test for environmental allergies when I was sixteen years old. I had been getting an absurd number of sinus infections, so my mother— no stranger to allergies herself—dragged me to an allergist and had him prick test me. While I wasn't a fan of the allergist (he was a close talker and kept pressing his junk into my knee) and the prick test itched like crazy, it was nice to know that my runny nose and itchy eyes had a cause.

After getting patch tested last summer, I decided that I should go visit an allergist again to see if another prick test would reveal any new information about additional food or environmental allergies. This time I loved the allergist I saw. She was friendly and incredibly knowledgeable, and unlike my most recent dermatologist, she took the time to talk with me and answer my questions. One of the first things I told her was that I thought I had an allergy to bananas because they have always made my throat itch. She smiled knowingly and said, "I bet you're allergic to ragweed."

I am allergic to ragweed. How did she gleam that from bananas?

Apparently there's this thing called oral allergy syndrome where the proteins in certain fruits and vegetables that have a chemical structure similar to the proteins in common environmental allergens can cause a contact reaction. Who knew that bananas were a cross-reactor to ragweed? I've told doctors in the past that bananas make my tongue itch and my throat swell up, yet none of them made the connection. This lady was on the ball!

Sorry Chiquita, you're no good for me!

So last fall, I went in prepared to have my skin poked at with itchy substances, yet my new favorite allergist informed me that a prick test wouldn't be necessary—she could determine my allergens through a blood test. Only one poke compared to dozens? Sign me up!

It took a few days to get the results, and the vampires down in the lab had to take several vials of my blood, but I was glad that the process didn't make me itchy. I've had enough of itchy over the past couple of years!

So how does a blood test work? Well apparently it detects antibodies to specific allergens. Through this process, my allergist was able to test me for food allergies as well. It turns out that I'm not actually allergic to bananas... so her suspicion of oral allergy syndrome was likely correct.

So what was I allergic to?

I had expected the test to come back positive for mold and dust mites, as I remember those being allergy triggers in my original test. However, I was negative for both of these. (Which would be nice if it means I've outgrown some of my allergens). I was also negative for all of the common food allergens that were tested for, including celiac disease. (Yay!)

I was positive for grass pollen and ragweed, which was really no surprise to me. My allergies always kick into high gear in the spring and fall—a common sign of grass and ragweed allergies.

What was a surprise to me however, was my positive reaction to cats.

...Cats?

How can I be allergic to cats? I want a second opinion!

Who could be allergic to this face?

I love cats. Ever since I was four years old and we got our first cat—aptly named Kitty Cat—I've been a bit of a cat fanatic.

Fanatic might be putting it mildly... Alright, I'll admit it. I'm a crazy cat lady.

...because sane people don't knit their cat sweaters.

Needless to say, I was a little distraught with the diagnosis. So I contacted my allergist to ask what this would mean for me and my four furry house guests. She assured me that my reaction to cats was a mild one—really more of an irritant—and that unless I developed problems, I could keep my furry friends.

Thank goodness! (I laughed at the idea of my cats being a "mild irritant." I couldn't have described them better myself.)

One of the things my allergist mentioned was that immunotherapy might be able to reduce some of my seasonal allergy symptoms. Traditionally, immunotherapy has been done through allergy shots, but I immediately ruled these out due to my dislike of being stabbed with needles. (I'd make a terrible heroin addict.)

However, it turns out that I hit the allergy jackpot because about two year ago the FDA approved the first sublingual immunotherapy tablets for ragweed and grass allergies—Ragwitek and Grastek, respectively. They're pretty cool, actually. Created by Merek, Ragwitek and Grastek are dissolvable tablets that contain active pollen. They are taken daily starting about 12 weeks before the kick-off of allergy season and continued until the season ends. They're not a pill—you don't swallow them. Instead, you simply put a tablet under your tongue and wait for it it dissolve for a minute or so. The idea is that by slowly introducing your body to small amounts of an allergen, it will help build up a tolerance and eventually desensitize your immune system towards that particular irritant.

Well, sign me up!

My allergist thought that I was a great candidate for this treatment, and although I missed the boat for Grastek this year, I was able to start my first dose of Ragwitek last week. I had to go into the doctor's office to take the first tablet, mainly because when you purposefully introduce a known allergen into your system, you are putting yourself at risk for anaphylaxis. This is rare, of course—oral itching and irritation are much more common side effects—but because it is a risk, I was prescribed an EpiPen.

There's a needle in that, right? I pray I never have to use it.

The first week has gone well. I love how simple it is: Pop the tablet out the packet, place it under your tongue, wait for it to dissolve before swallowing and then wait five minutes before eating or drinking. The hardest part has been the trying not to swallow bit.

So far I've noticed a bit of pressure in my ears and sinuses shortly after taking my dose. Nothing too extreme—certainly not as bad as my typical reaction to ragweed every fall. The hope is that this treatment will help to greatly reduce my seasonal allergies, and if that's the case then a little bit of sinus pressure is worth it. I'll let you all know how it goes.

As for my potential cat allergy, there's not much that can be done. Do you think it could be considered immunotherapy if I rub a cat on my face daily?

Seems to be working for me so far!

Isn't Gold Supposed to be Hypoallergenic?

I had a friend who use to get rashes from cheap jewelry, so I've always tended to lean towards necklaces and earrings labeled "hypoallergenic" or "nickel-free." When it comes to jewelry, nickel seems to be the most common allergen and many different metals contain some nickel content — even the lower quality golds.

I've been trying to buy nickel free jewelry for years — usually this meant purchasing items that were gold or sterling silver. But it turns out that nickel is a non-issue for me — at least at this point.

The most surprising thing about the results from my T.R.U.E test was the positive reaction to gold sodium thiosulfate, or gold salt.

Oh man, the gold patch burned! It flared up the worst and itched for months after the test.

The nurse who removed my patches said that she had never seen anyone react so strongly to something. Yet my dermatologist was completely unfazed. She told me that gold has a high rate of false positives, and it looks like there are studies out there that back that up.

But just because gold can show a false positive doesn't mean that it's always a false positive. If that were the case, there would be no point in including it on the test.

Research also shows that although an allergic contact reaction is more common to gold salt than it is to elemental gold or gold alloys, it is certainly possible for gold jewelry to cause dermatitis.

My grandmother was allergic to gold. Like, actually allergic to gold — not just the nickel content that is in many golds.

Which leads me to wonder... do allergies have a genetic component? Perhaps.

I haven't been wearing a whole lot of gold jewelry lately, but looking back I remember that my favorite necklace (which happened to be white gold) always left my neck a bit red where it would touch.

I don't know if gold will end up being a long term problem for me.... I'm actually hoping that my derm was right and that it was just a false positive. Once I've got my skin all cleared up I'd like to see if I can go back to wearing my wedding ring. I miss it.

But for now I've switched to a tungsten ring. Better safe than itchy, right?

Three Handy Ways to Carry Your Soap

When you're allergic to isothiazolinones, one of the hardest things to get use to is lugging around your own soap. 

I cannot tell you the number of times I forgot to bring my soap into the bathroom with me in the beginning. Even more frustrating than that were the times when I had my soap with me, but I let my guard down for a moment and muscle memory took over—forcing my hand to automatically reach for the soap pump and dispense poison onto myself.

Woops... that's going to itch later!

But since forgoing mystery hand soap is key to getting your skin back to normal, I've found three easy ways to carry my safe soap around the world (or simply around the corner) with me. 

1.     Soap flakes in a packet

This is actually the method I came up with first. At the time when I was diagnosed, I had fallen out of the habit of carrying my purse. No purse equals no good place to store soap, and so I went with this option as the little packet could easily fit into the pocket of my jeans. This would also be a good option for any men out there with this allergy, as they could slide the packet into their wallet.

• Step 1: Take a bar of safe soap and grate it up into a fine powder with a cheese grater. (I found that the finer the soap was, the easier it was to dissolve.)

• Step 2: Place the soap in a tiny zip lock baggie. (I had a ton of these lying around the house, as I had ordered several hundred of them off of Amazon several years ago to make my husband and I daily pill packets. They turned out to be the perfect size for soap.)

The trick to this method is getting the soap fine enough that it dissolves quickly. To use it, I sprinkle a little into my palm, add a few drop of warm water, and then rub my hands together until it gets to a soapy consistency. For me, a softer soap that melts fast works the best, but if you're planning on storing it in a warm space then it might be better to go with a harder bar that you can grate up into a powdery consistency. 

I’ve found that since these packets take up very little space, they are perfect for storing in a variety of places so that I'm never without soap. I have a packet in my purse, a packet in my wallet, a packet in my camera case, a packet in my computer bag, and a packet in the glove box of my car.

2.     Bar soap in a tin 

There’s just something about bar soap that makes it easier to use than the soap flakes. It’s so much quicker to work it into a rich and foamy lather, but the trade off is that you’re left with a damp bar of soap that you have to tote around. For that reason, I don’t use this method very often, but I do have a few tins of soap slivers lying around for backup purposes.

• Step 1: Find a tin. (This may involve eating some Altoids. A co-worker actually gave me this empty mint tin over the summer after I told him about my soap dilemma. Thanks Steve!)

• Step 2: Find soap that fits in the tin. (While it should be possible to cut a small piece of soap off a bigger bar, this is something that I haven’t attempted yet—mainly because the combination of me and large knives usually results in an emergency room visit complete with stitches. Since I’ve been lucky enough to pick up small samples of soaps from various places that fit perfectly in my tins, I've thus far avoided the need to have to cut up a bar.)

3.     Tiny bottles 

This has become my go-to method, as I prefer the feel of liquid soap. It’s also the one that includes the least amount of prep work, which is always a plus for me.

• Step 1: Buy a tiny bottle of soap. (Or alternatively, buy a tiny bottle and fill it with soap.)

I like that Dr. Bronners makes their castile soaps in 2 oz. bottles. I’m able to get them locally at Target, Whole Foods, and specialty shops, but they’re available online as well. 

I love these so much that I’ve started buying them in bulk! I keep one in my purse and one in my travel bag because it also makes a great body wash. I have also started hiding them in places that I go often. I keep one at work, and I have one hidden under the sink at my parent’s house. I think I’m going to start stocking them at friend’s homes soon, as I always have trouble remembering grab my soap from my purse when visiting people. (And I don't want to make a habit of having to go through people's showers to find a soap—any soap—that doesn’t contain methylisothiazolinone.) 

Getting used to carrying around your own soap is one of the hardest adjustments you’ll have to make with this allergy. But with a little planning, you can easily eliminate your risk of exposure from restroom soap dispensers. 

Now if only we could figure out a way to outlaw public restroom air fresheners! 

Allergic to Isothiazolinone? You Can Probably Relate To This List:

1.     You feel as if the world is out to get you. When you first got your patch test results, you might have thought “no biggie. I’ll just read some labels and get rid of anything that has ingredients ending in isothiazolinone.” But no. It doesn’t stop there. Half your products don’t list the ingredients. Others only list vague terms, such as “preservative” and “fragrance.” And the number of products that contain isothiazolinone in one of its various forms is mind-boggling. This poison is everywhere; you trust nothing.

2.     You’ve become an expert ingredient reader. You can pick an isothiazolinone out of an ingredient list in three seconds flat—even the ones where they try to trick you by splitting up the name between two different lines. Take that methylchloroisoth-

      iazolinone!

3.     You actually know how to pronounce methylchloroisothiazolinone. People look at you funny when you say it without stumbling.

4.     You’re suspicious of anything labeled “free & clear,” “hypo-allergenic,” “natural,” “green,” or “organic,” because you know that these terms are used all willy-nilly and are no guarantee that the product doesn’t contain harmful ingredients. You feel sad for the people who proudly use these allegedly “environmentally safe” and “healthy” brands. Little do they know…

5.     You can no longer shop at Walmart. Trying to find soap that you can use at any mainstream store usually results in a mental breakdown. You pick up a product, read the ingredients and find yourself struggling to resist hurling the bottle to the floor. And to top it off, getting anywhere near the air freshener aisle makes you ooze for weeks! Speaking of ooze…

6.     The camera roll on your phone contains hundreds of rash pictures. You know, just in case your dermatologist wants to see the day-to-day progression of your latest flare. (Trust me… they probably don’t).

7.     You’re not sure you fully trust your dermatologist. They don’t seem particularly read up on MI/MCI issues or even contact dermatitis in general. Didn’t they go to school for this? Why are they still handing out samples containing common allergens to eczema patients? One day you hope to find a derm who really gets it. You’ve heard they’re out there, but like the ever elusive four-leafed clover, you’ve yet to find one.

8.     You’re afraid to try new things or go new places. New products have burned you (quite literally) in the past. They’ve hidden MI in the fragrance. Or just “forgot” to put it on the ingredients list. You’ve found that few companies will give you a straight answer when you ask them to disclose what’s in their product. Becoming a hermit seems to be the safest bet for staying rash free. New environments make you break out.

9.    You’ve become that weirdo… the one that carries around their own hand soap. You refuse to pet your neighbor’s dog. You recoil in fear when someone tries to shake your hand. The smell of fresh paint makes you flee in terror. You’d rather pee in a bush than risk it in a bathroom that smells like air freshener. This allergy has unintentionally turned you into a hippie. You now rub yourself in hemp oil, talk about your organic soap nut laundry detergent and preach the dangers of the cosmetic industry to anyone who’ll listen—and anyone who won’t too.

10. Television commercials make you roll your eyes and shout obscenities at the T.V. “No! Don’t wash your laundry in that! What are you doing? You shouldn’t put that lotion on a baby. Don’t spray that air freshener. People are going to need a HAZMAT suit to enter the house!” You can’t believe the lies they’re able to tell the unassuming public. 

11. Traveling can be a nightmare. Airplane recirculation vents, toxic rental car cleaners, freshly cleaned hotel rooms and bedding washed in mystery detergent, crowded subway cars, Ubers with a forest full of those little air freshener trees—these things make for potentially itchy vacations. Good thing seeing the world is worth a little pain and inconvenience.

12. You’ve been called crazy. You’ve been told that it is all in your head. Nobody believes that someone could be allergic to such a tiny amount of chemical that’s in so many products. People act like you’re making it all up just to inconvenience them. But you’re not. Allergic contact dermatitis is a real condition and you are really suffering from it. Nobody would question someone’s peanut allergy; why don’t they believe you?

13. You’ve stopped telling people about your condition. You are sick of hearing people say, “Oh, if you just try such-and-such your eczema will magically disappear.” You’ve tried it all. It didn’t work. Allergies don’t work like that and you don’t want any more unsolicited advice. Sure, you probably should stop eating sugar and processed foods. And yeah, probiotics are a good thing to take for optimal gut health. You’re glad that the lotion your sister’s dog walker swears by works for him, but it contains one of your allergens and therefore is not an option… Why do people always think that they can cure you?

14. Despite knowing that there is no cure other than avoidance, you’ll try just about any snake oil to get rid of the itch. Bleach baths? Check. Apple Cider Vinegar? Check. Hemp oil? Check. Fermented cod liver oil and turmeric? Check and check. Does anyone know where one can get actual snake oil? You’ve heard it does wonders!

15. You would never wish this allergy on anyone. And that’s why you’ve become an advocate against MI and all of its biocidal cousins (MCI, BIT, OIT, etc). You know that it’s a strong sensitizer and as long as companies are still putting it in products, no one if safe from developing a contact allergy to it. And being allergic sucks.

16. Some days you are overwhelmed. You sometimes struggle to stay positive. But you refuse to let a single preservative ruin you life. You carry on, armed with your own hand soap and a new wealth of knowledge. You know that one day you will get this all under control. You know that you are not alone.

Musings of an Unintentional Hippie

Ten years ago, nobody would have called me a hippie.

I’ve never been what you would describe as an “earthy” person. I don’t get along with the outdoors—grass and pollen make me sneeze. I can’t stand the feel of dirt on my feet or under my nails. I avoid anything muddy, gritty, or sticky. I hate bugs and I avoid the sun like a vampire.

I could never claim to be an “environmentalist.” I fully condone hunting furry creatures. I’ve never been particularly concerned about saving water. I should probably recycle more than just my aluminum cans. I planted a tree on Arbor Day once, but it died.

I’m not a vegan (I grew up on a dairy farm) and I don’t eat paleo. I’ll take chocolate over kale any day of the week. I’m not quite sure what tabouli and quinoa are, and I’m only a moderate fan of granola. I don’t go out of my way to buy organic.

I shower. I shave. I wash my hair. I brush my teeth. I wear deodorant. I get frequent haircuts and I’ve never sported dreadlocks.

Tie-dye and peasant blouses make me look fat. I’ve never smoked pot. I can’t stand the smell of patchouli. I've never burned incense.

I’ve always considered myself a pretty average—if not slightly high maintenance—person. In my younger years, I wouldn’t have even dreamed about leaving the house without first doing my hair and makeup.

I was always eager to try out new products. Shellac? BB cream? Dry shampoo? Cleansing conditioner? I was all over it. Like the majority of American women, I chose my products based primarily on scent.

My poor hair took a real beating in cosmetology school. I colored it monthly—at least—and would frequently flat iron my messy waves into submission. Eventually I learned to embrace my curls, though this required a daily cocktail of mousse, oils, gels, creams and sprays. Even after I left my career in the beauty industry, I still felt the most at home in the hair care aisle. Beauty, and skin care is something that I was, am, and always will be passionate about. (I just have to go about it all in a different way these days.)

Ten years ago I never would have guessed that I’d be wearing unscented deodorant and cleaning my house with baking soda and vinegar. I never would have thought that I would willingly throw out all of my perfumes, body sprays and scented soaps. I never would have imagined that I’d carry around my own hand soap with me everywhere and wash my laundry in organic detergent. I had never even considered washing my face with oil, covering my body in dead-sea mud or spraying my hands down with apple cider vinegar. If you had told the germaphobic me of ten years ago that one day I would be terrified of clean bathrooms and the smell of febreeze, I wouldn’t have believed you.

Yet here I am. Not your average American girl anymore…

…but not really a full-blown hippie yet either.

I have the feeling that living with allergic contact dermatitis is going to be a long journey. First came the shock of realizing that I couldn’t use most commercially available products. Then came the research: What are isothiazolinones and why do they make me itch? The more research I did, and the more people I talked to who were going through the same thing as me, the more I understood and the better I could avoid my allergens. I cut so much junk out of my life. Junk I never even realized was junk. But I was left with an intense feeling of sadness for what I had lost. I lacked a sense of self-identity.

If I wasn’t the girl with the bathroom stocked full of sweet scented hand soap, who was I?

If I couldn’t use “normal” products, what could I use?

Many of the substitutes I found were from companies who pride themselves in being things such as:

Natural

Organic

Cruelty Free

One day I looked at my medicine cabinet and realized that I had collected a whole bunch of hippie shit—not by choice but out of necessity.

When you’re itchy, you’re desperate for anything to make the rash go away. If someone told you to grind up unicorn poop and rub it on your face, you might think, “why not? I’ll try anything at this point!”

I’ve found that sometimes the wacky hippie cures work… Sometimes they don’t. What worked for others doesn’t always work for me, just as what works for me won’t always work for you. Everyone’s situation has unique aspects to it.

Not all of us are cut out to make our own lotions, go without antiperspirant, no-poo our hair, brush our teeth with coconut oil or wash our dishes in a cool mountain stream. And that’s ok. I’m trying to find things that work for me—for who I am now and for who I want to be in the future.

So for now I am just an unintentional, somewhat reluctant, hippie.

Thanks for joining me on my journey.

Three Easy DIYs for the Non Do-it-yourselfer

I’ve always been fascinated by the type of people who take on do-it-yourself projects. Some people are just incredibly crafty. They can re-purpose old furniture found on curbs, sew their own clothes, make meals from scratch out of ingredients they have grown in their organic gardens, shear their own sheep and knit themselves socks with the homespun wool… I am not one of these people. I am lazy.

Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing but respect for anyone who has the time, energy and creative abilities to take on a DIY. But I’m just not that type of person. I don’t have a Pintrest account because I know full well that anything I try to duplicate will end up on the “fails” list. And while I like to dabble in some artsy activities on occasion—I’m an avid crochet-er, a fantastic baker, an amateur photographer, and a sporadic crafter—too much right brain thinking makes my head numb. I’d rather read a book or binge watch something on Netflix.

When I was first diagnosed with an allergy to isothiazolinones, my heart sank. So many of the products that I had been using needed to be thrown into the trash and I was left scrambling to find suitable alternatives. I spent hour after hour on the internet trying to find some sort of a comprehensive list of products that were safe for me, but nothing of the sort seemed to exist. It was incredibly frustrating and I started to worry that I was going to have to start making all of my own products. I feared that I was going to become one of those people—a do-it-yourselfer.

And so I scoured the web for recipes: body wash, lotions, shampoos, deodorants, toothpastes, dish soaps, laundry detergents, cleaning supplies—it seemed like everything could be made from scratch. But I still didn’t want to do it. First off, the number of supplies needed to make these things was overwhelming (read: money). Second, after obtaining these supplies I’d have to spend the time creating the products (read: trial and error… and in my case, most likely error). And third, then I’d have to figure out a way to preserve this stuff. Sure, preservatives are what got me into this mess in the first place, but they serve a vital purpose—to keep our products from going bad. Unfortunately, many of the DIY products I found called for new product to be mixed prior to each use.  This endless cycle of product creation did not appealed to me.

And then I had another concern: would these products even work? There’s a reason that big companies have formulated commercial products the way they have—they get the job done. They may be loaded with nasty chemicals and preservatives, but they do what they were created to do and they do it well. That’s what keeps consumers keep coming back for more: products make our lives easier.

Luckily, through the help of tools like EWG’s Skin Deep website, the Think Dirty iPhone app, and recommendations from fellow MI/MCI victims on Facebook—along with reading a lot of ingredient lists—I was able to find some excellent alternatives (which I will write about soon!).

And as it turns out, I did decide to go the do-it-yourself route on a few products as well.

Foaming Castile Soap

~2 tablespoons liquid castile soap

Water

Foaming soap pump

I feel a little odd calling this one a DIY since it’s essentially just watering down regular soap.

Castile soap is great, but straight up it can be a little drying. So I take a pretty blue-tinted glass soap foamer that I found at HomeGoods and I put in a few capfuls of Dr. Bronners, Dr. Woods, or Acure castile soap (or sometimes a mixture of the three), fill the rest up with distilled water and give it a good shake. If the foam isn’t thick enough, I add more soap. If it’s too thick, I add more water. It’s the perfect gateway DIY product for a non do-it-yourselfer like myself.

Sea-Salt Spray

2 tablespoons Epsom salt

~2 ounces aloe vera juice (optional)

~6 ounces water (preferably distilled)

8 ounce spray bottle

Sea salt spray is just too easy not to make yourself. This was a perfect DIY product for me, since epsom salt is something that I always have on hand (for relaxing foot soaks, of course). It’s kind of criminal that stores sell sea salt spray for so much when it’s so easy and economical to make your own. So here’s what I do:

·      Using a tiny funnel I found in my kitchen “catch-all” drawer, I scoop some Epsom salt into a cute amber glass spray bottle I found on Amazon.

·      Next I pour some aloe vera juice (the watery stuff—not the gel) into the bottle until it’s about a quarter full. (I use George’s brand that I get from Swanson Health because it’s one of the few I've found that doesn’t contain additional additives.) If you don’t have aloe juice, you could add some aloe gel instead, or just skip it.

·      Then I fill the bottle up the remainder of the way with water. I use distilled in the hopes that it will help the product keep longer, but to be honest I use it up so fast that I’ve never had a problem with it going bad.

·      Finally, I screw the cap on the bottle and give it a good shake until all of the salt is dissolved. 

The great thing about sea salt spray is that the measurements are very forgiving. As long as your bottle contains salt and water, you’ve got yourself a sea salt spray. Easy peasy!

Body Mist

20-30 drops of essential oils

½ teaspoon glycerin

1 ounce witch hazel

3 ounces distilled water

My third project required me to go out and purchase a few essential oils. Being completely new to essential oils, I felt like this was a big step for me in my journey towards hippiedom. Since I didn’t want to risk smelling like patchouli, I chose fruity scents like lime, sweet orange, grapefruit and tangerine to start with. The finished product ended up with a light, fruity scent, which I really like.

So as you can see, if I take on a do-it-yourself project, it’s quick and easy. As I continue to dive deeper into the realms of DIY I’m sure I’ll be up for more complicated tasks, but for now simple is all I can handle.

If you’re in the same place, don’t feel bad.

If you’re one of those super crafty do-it-yourselfers… well, I envy you.

My On-Again Off-Again Relationship With Contact Lenses

I got my first pair of glasses when I was in second grade. They were big and ugly--the round metal rims decorated in some sort of gaudy floral theme that could only have been designed by someone's senile grandmother (in the dark). I consider this event in my life to be the beginning of "the awkward years" that would last well into my teens.

My poor eyesight is genetic. My parents both wear glasses, as did their parents before them. If the world still operated on the principles of natural selection, my genetic line would have long since fallen off a cliff or been hit by a bus. We just can't see worth a damn.

I wore a series of ugly glasses throughout my childhood, avoiding pictures whenever possible--attempting to destroying them when not. It wasn't until I turned 15 that I finally got contact lenses. I had wanted them for a few years already, but the thought of having to touch my eyeball to get them in did not appeal to my squeamish sensibilities. It took me several appointments over the course of a year before I was finally able to put a pair of contacts in without flinching, but from that point on I ditched my glasses and never looked back.

Until 2007. For some reason, that was the year I found myself pulling my glasses out of storage more and more often. It started with my eyes getting dry whenever I wore my contacts. For awhile I was able to solve this with re-wetting drops, but then I developed a red ring around the edge of the contact in my right eye--(why only the right eye, I have no idea). My eye would burn and itch and the only relief I would get was from removing the contacts and letting my eye heal for a few days. Yet as soon as the contacts went back in, the redness and accompanying burning sensation returned. Eventually my left eye started to react too and I finally went to see an Ophthalmologist who prescribed me steroid eye drops and told me to stop napping with my contacts in. (Yeah, fat chance.)

"You've just got a little conjunctivitis," she said. "It'll be fine."

They cycle continued for many months. I'd wear contacts, they'd irritate my eyes, I'd give them up for a week or two... wash, rinse, repeat. It really did a number on my self-esteem at the time, as I hated the way that I looked in glasses. Glasses always made me feel like a dowdy nerd--which I was--but as an aspiring hair stylist in a career field that valued beauty and non-nerdity, hiding my geekiness was important to me at the time. I just never really felt attractive in glasses...

The following summer was a rough one. My eyes continued to burn and the constant red circle left from the contact lenses was concerning. Since I was stuck wearing my glasses, I was unable to use proper sunglasses--making my already sore and sensitive eyes all that much more irritated. Finally I sought out a new eye doctor who suggested that I had developed an allergy to contact solution. He gave me a sample of Clear Care and told me to throw my regular solution in the trash.

It worked. The bubbly little hydrogen peroxide lens cleaner left my contacts clean and my eyes without itch or redness. I accepted the doctor's diagnosis of "allergy" without a second thought (or even a thought as to what particular component of the solution I was allergic to). By the time I got married in 2009, my eyes were as good as new and I've never had any further problems.

It was only after I got the results of my T.R.U.E test that it all began to make sense. It turns out that thimerosal was used as a preservative in most contact solutions during the time I was struggling with itchy eyes. Thimerosal contains mercury and while it does kill bacteria and prevent contamination, it's also very toxic.

It irks me that less than a decade ago, we were still using mercury as a preservative. I remember when I was a kid hearing people talk about mercury contamination in tuna, yet here I was, probably ten years later, putting mercury in my eye on a daily basis. And I had no idea.

While most contact solution has now been reformulated without thimerosal, this allergen still lurks in some vaccines, particularly multi-dose flu shots. I remember having quite the adverse reaction to a flu shot around the same time I was struggling with my contacts and have avoided them ever since (though I've been told you can get thimerosal-free flu shots now upon request).

I'm not sure when manufacturers started adding thimerosal to their lens solutions, but I do know that my allergy to it, like all type IV allergic contact allergies, did not develop overnight. I was slowly sensitized from continued use and my reaction grew stronger and stronger as my poor little eyes built up T-cells to fight off the perceived intruder. According to the information from my dermatologist provided me, thimerosal can still be found in some cosmetics, pharmaceuticals, and hygiene products, though I have yet to find it any of the products I've seen. I'm hoping that's because this particular preservative is one that is on it's way out for good!

As for me and my relationship with glasses, we're on much better terms these days. While I haven't had a problem with my contacts since I switched solutions, I've slowly grown tired of popping them in and out daily. Over the past several years, I've noticed myself reaching for my glasses more and more--which is nice as it allows me an extra few minutes to sleep in in the morning and a few more minutes to read before bed at night. Plus glasses have become a lot more stylish and affordable in recent years! I've become addicted to Zenni Optical, which will send me a complete pair of really cute glasses (even with my ridiculously strong prescription) for under $30. I've collected over a dozen pairs the past few years.

I'm so glad that geek is now chic.

Trust Issues

I got some bad news today. My laundry detergent contains benzisothiazolinone.

When I was first diagnosed, I went online to the Proctor&Gamble website and looked up the ingredients for the Tide Coldwater detergent that I have been a loyal consumer of for years. While I found that the Tide Free & Clear and several other varieties contained methylisothiazolinone, my beloved Tide Coldwater looked safe according the ingredients list. And that was good enough for me.

Until it wasn't. Six months after my diagnosis I'd eliminated all the products in my house that listed isothiazolinones, yet I still itched constantly.

What gives?

And so I started emailing the manufacturers of the products I was still using, asking them to verify that their products were free of my allergens. Most companies were very helpful--and the ones that weren't got their products thrown in the trash.

Tide I had trouble with right from the start. I contacted them over two months ago and my first email got a canned response telling me how to search for the ingredients online--which would have been fine if that's the info I had been asking for--but I had specifically stated that I'd already looked at their online ingredients and wanted further verification that they weren't hiding any isothiazolinones.

And so I replied. "I have found the ingredients lists helpful, but what I'm really looking for is verification that your products are free from isothiazolinone compounds," I said.

A new person wrote back asking for more information and offering to send me a coupon.

Yeah, right. A coupon? I don't even know if I can safely use your product and the best you can do is send me a coupon? (The coupon never showed up, by the way.)

I politely sent them the information they requested.

The next reply, from yet another person, would have been comical if it wasn't so frustrating:

"I did a quick search and I was not able to find the formulations or any chemicals that end in isothiazolinone. I found all of this information on our website P&G Products safety. http://www.pgproductsafety.com/productsafety/index.shtml this page you can look at any P&G product and its ingredients."

Um... yeah. I did a quick search too and didn't find the ingredient. Which is why I'm contacting you!

"Thank you," I replied "but when used in low concentrations under a certain percent it would not be required to be officially listed. I'm looking to verify with your manufacturing department that this chemical is not used in any way in or during the manufacturing of your detergents."

A fourth person replied to me. "Unfortunately, we don't have the additional information that you are requesting about Tide Coldwater detergent at the moment. We've reached out to our internal teams and will be back in touch with you when we hear back from them."

That was in the middle of December.

And so I waited. I waited and I itched.

Eventually I figured they forgot about me and started investigating replacement detergents. While I assumed that their online ingredient list was probably accurate, it really irked me that nobody could verify if a specific ingredient was or was not in a specific product. What kind of customer service is that? Shouldn't that kind of information be readily available?

But it's not. And it's not just Tide either... many companies don't provide consumers with important information. I didn't realize just how few companies even list their ingredients on the bottles until I had to start looking. The ones that do often hide behind vague definitions like "fragrance" or "preservatives." Many other companies mask their ingredient lists with claims about "trade secrets" or "proprietary formulas." What does that even mean? Shouldn't consumers have access to information about what they are putting on (or in) their bodies--especially those of us with allergies?

Turns out that Tide had not forgotten about me.

I got an email this morning from representative #5 saying that "Tide Coldwater liquid laundry detergent does contain Benzisothiazolinone at very low levels since it comes in with an ingredient that we use, but it does not contain the other two preservatives (Methylisothiazolinone, Methylchloroisothiazolinone)."

What the heck, Tide? You couldn't have come up with this information TWO MONTHS ago? How incompetent of a system are you guys running if it takes you that long to verify an ingredient? This is a known ALLERGEN! Why wouldn't it be disclosed? Put it on your ingredient list! Very low levels? That's like telling someone with a nut allergy not to worry because your product only contains "very low levels" of peanuts. Or like saying "our food contains very low levels of cyanide; that's not a problem, is it?"

But I digress. That's probably just the anger talking.

In all honesty, I'm glad that they came clean with me--even if it took them awhile. I hope now that the "Tide Team" has done the research, they'll be able to help the next person looking for answers in a much more efficient manner. I hope that by sharing this information, other Tide users with isothiazolinone allergies won't have to suffer. I hope that their failure to list the BIT was an oversight on Tide's part and not just them being sneaky. (Turns out it's a component of the fragrance. And unlike some many other brands, Tide does have a section of their site where you can view the fragrance components. It's a 20 page PDF, mind you, but at least it exists. I couldn't find benzisothiazolinone listed there, but to be fair it's possible I overlooked it.)

I hope it doesn't take me a year to re-wash everything I own. (But seriously, I DO have to wash everything I own now--and I hate doing laundry with a passion.)

One thing is for sure though--I don't think I'll be about to put my trust in Tide (or any other P&G brand) again.

I'm using Greenshield Organic Free and Clear laundry detergent now. It's a soap nut based detergent, which is something I find pretty cool. While I'm not really sold on the whole "organic" movement, I like that Greenshield promises all of their products are free of methylisothiazolinone and other synthetic ingredients, as well as a host of other nasty things. I'm hoping it's a company worthy of my trust!

But mostly I'm just hoping that it gets my clothes clean.

What's With the Gloves?

I suppose the question is inevitable when you're the weirdo wearing fingerless gloves indoors.

I went to an event last month, sat down at a table full of semi-acquaintances and within minutes the least discerning of the group looks at me and says, "what's with the gloves?"

"My hands get cold."

I receive blank stares from my dinner mates and the conversation awkwardly continues in a non-outerwear direction. Fifteen minutes later the food arrives and I remove my gloves to eat. My new friend blurts out, "what's wrong with your hand?"

I wish I knew. Boy, do I ever... I wish my skin didn't break out at the mere mention of dish soap. I wish people didn't spray febreeze around like they're macing a rapist in a dark alley. I wish that I could still shake hands or return hugs without worrying about getting infected, but alas, the world is covered in poison. So yes, my hands look like something out of a zombie horror film. I'm well aware of this. You don't need to point it out.

"Eczema," I mumble as I try to discretely slip my gloves back on and finish my meal.

I'm already an incredibly self conscious person and every time that someone draws attention to my gloves, my heart breaks a little. How I wish that I could leave the house without them--that I could be a normal person again instead of this weirdo who can't touch anything or anybody. But I can't. This is who I am now. I'm the girl who carries around her own hand soap. I'm the girl who can't go into a room if it's been painted in the last month. I'm the girl who wears her fingerless gloves indoors.

So what is with the gloves? It's more than just eczema. I have allergic contact dermatitis (ACD) and the gloves help to protect me from allergens and serve to hide my reactions when the allergens find me anyway. It's awful and painful and some days I hate to even leave the house. One day I'll get my skin under control--I'll figure out what's making me tick and how to avoid it--but until then, the gloves stay. Please stop asking about them.

Thank God it's the middle of a frigid Wisconsin winter. I'm not sure what I'm going to do come summer. Probably switch to a hand brace so that people can start asking me how I injured myself.

"Oh this? I sprained my wrist punching the last guy who asked me about my gloves."