“Never trust a big butt and a smile, that girl’s been poisoned!”
Okay, so those aren’t the real Bell Biv Devoe lyrics, but I think you get where I was going with it. [By the way, you’re welcome for the song link — now you’ll be singing this throwback all day #sorrynotsorry.] As the title of this blog post indicates, I’ve been legit poisoned … and it sucks. It’s affecting my sleep, strength, balance, vision, mood, cognition, memory, and even speech. The doctor says it’ll take nine months to recover and be “reborn” — the same amount of time it takes to grow a human. Somewhat ironic, don’tcha think?
So how the f*ck was I poisoned?
It’s not a salacious story — although I kind of wish it was because that would at least make for a better blog post. My morning protein smoothie wasn’t laced with anti-freeze by some jealous rival, nor was my salad sprinkled with rat poison by some crazed lunatic or sociopath. Sadly for you, my dear readers, it’s more pedestrian than that. My story is more like singer/songwriter Janelle Monae’s tale — but different.
Monae attributes her mercury poisoning to her pescatarian lifestyle. And while I have adjusted my diet over the past few years to focus mainly on veggies and lean proteins, including a boat load of fish (pun intended), my regular consumption of poultry and the occasional grass-fed steak disqualify me as a true pescatarian. Still, I developed a toxic build up of mercury that’s begun to poison my body, brain, and central nervous system, thanks to the perfect quadfecta: My autoimmune disease, a gene mutation, a diet high in seafood, and years of toxic exposure through dental amalgams, cookware, plastics, cleaning supplies, and even cosmetics and beauty supplies. In other words, I kind of poisoned myself — although it’s not entirely my fault (I’m looking at you, MTHFR and Hashimoto’s).
Think I’m being an alarmist?
I will admit that I do have a flare for the dramatic; I lean towards hyperbole and often use grand generalizations. Plus, I can be a bit of a hypochondriac as well. For that, I blame my health history, an every-present Google search bar, and, of course, my parents. Just kidding … I don’t blame Google! [Insert sly smile and wink here.] But I’m not exaggerating or catastrophizing when I say that I’ve been poisoned by my pots and pans and near-daily intake of fish because I really have been poisoned by my cookware and food choices. As crazy as it sounds, the tests prove it: My blood work indicates recent exposure (as in the past few days), my urine sample shows short-term exposure (probably within the past few months), and my hair sample proves long-term exposure (possibly years). Yep, a triple whammy.
My symptoms were/are pretty typical of heavy metal toxicity, but for months I wrote them off as holiday stress and a seasonal autoimmune flare-up. Things like extreme fatigue, brain fog, forgetfulness, lack of concentration and focus, irritability, muscle weakness, numbness, tingling in my fingers and toes, poor balance (which, to be honest, has always been an issue for me, which is why I don’t ride a bike), blurry vision, and a constant, dull headache. In January, my quarterly labs showed that I was, in fact, experiencing an autoimmune flare. My endocrinologist adjusted my meds accordingly, but nothing changed. Quite the opposite, actually. The headaches grew more constant, my balance worsened, and the tingling turned to visible tremors in my hands and knees. Then I started having trouble getting words out. Sometimes because I forgot a word, and sometimes because my mouth couldn’t form the sounds I wanted to make. The hypochondriac in me started to freak out. I consulted “Dr. Google” (bad idea), but I also reached out to my highly-trained functional medicine doctor (good idea). He suspected mercury poisoning (who knew?!) and had me tested. My results were across the board much too high.
So how does this happen?
Mercury is a neurotoxin that can damage the kidneys, brain, and central nervous system. Remember being told not to eat sushi when you were pregnant? Yeah, that’s because tuna is high in mercury and eating too much may lead to birth defects, like cerebral palsy, brain damage, and hearing or vision loss. But I don’t eat sushi and I’m not pregnant (that would be an even bigger problem and a whole new blog post), so what gives?
The thing is, most exposure is cumulative and builds over time. At least that’s how it worked in my case. Having a gene mutation and an autoimmune disease with chronic inflammation, gut permeability (a.k.a., leaky gut) and low bile/enzyme production means my body doesn’t detox properly, thus making me more susceptible to a toxic overload. To put it more bluntly, instead of excreting toxins naturally, they leak into my blood stream and recirculate throughout my body. Gross, I know, and probably way T.M.I. as well. #sorrynotsorry, again.
All this to say, I am truly a hot mess. The good news is, it could have been worse. It was caught before my levels were so high that chemical IV chelation therapy was required. Instead, because of my already compromised immune system, I’m following a gentler oral detox protocol that has me systematically (and somewhat neurotically) taking a series of pills and powders (ranging from 1 to 14, depending on the hour) every four hours for the next nine months. It’s cumbersome, confusing, and making my pee slightly green in color. Silver lining: Looks like I’m winning St. Patrick’s Day this year, so suck it, Pinterest Moms!
The real sucky part though is that like a detoxing alcoholic or drug addict, it gets worse before it gets better. Some days are hard. Like, really, really hard. My workouts suffer, my writing suffers, my family suffers, I suffer … But silver lining #2: Now I have an even better excuse for not going out or socializing (that’s true #lifegoals for a socially anxious introvert like me).
The reality is, it could have been much worse. I’m grateful for having an astute doctor who caught it early enough that the condition is still reversible. It’s going to take time, effort, and patience (something that’s hard for me), plus lots of pills and powders, infrared sauna treatments, lymphatic massages, naps, and gallons upon gallons of water (something that’s easy for me). My plan is to come back better and stronger by Thanksgiving 2020, so please bear with me until then. I probably won’t be killing it in the gym day after day, or turning out Pulitzer-worthy articles every week, and I’ll more than likely forget things you tell me from time to time, but I’ll get there. Just watch me.
-LJDT
